


Study Partner

by fireside23



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: College, George is not colorblind, George's POV, Lust, M/M, Soft boy Clay, friends - Freeform, george goes to florida, george is a simp, happy trail, slight angst, smut?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:08:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28782465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireside23/pseuds/fireside23
Summary: George moves to America for University. While he studies for his exams he happens to sit near a handsome young man, Clay, who he quickly begins to fall for.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 52
Kudos: 321





	1. The Boy in the Green Shirt

**Author's Note:**

> Not me writing a 3rd fanfiction lol. I literally just wrote like 4 chapters in one night a couple days ago. I figure I'd just put it up for fun. I am not sure if there is going to be smut, if there is it will not be intense at all. It'll be very light and not descriptive lol. I probably won't go back on that. If I do I will say so in the chapter notes. Other than that some of the other stuff written will be slightly mature. 
> 
> I am only writing this fanfiction because both George and Clay say that they are comfortable with fanfics, however if they want this taken down I will remove it.

George opened his eyes. He struggled to see anything in front of him as the sunlight breached the blinds paralyzing his face. Knowing he'll just fall back asleep if he keeps his eyes close he sat up and looks at his phone. 

7:40 AM.

He slept through his alarms leaving him with 45 minutes to get freshened up, changed and out the door to go to his first class. He looks outside his window and sees that it is raining. He lets out a low groan as he walks to bathroom.

After getting ready and making it out the door of his home he immediately regrets not having a car. He didn't think he would want or need it because Campus is 10 minutes away, but when it rains in Florida it pours. 

George, having moved from the UK this past fall to start University in America learned really quick how temperamental the weather could be there compared to London. The rain was even different. In London it would rain too harshly and it was almost always be a cool rain. In Florida the rain feels like sweat. Probably because the moment it touches your skin it is mixing with literal sweat. London rain is refreshing. Florida rain is no better than diving into mud. 

But the thunderstorms were a silver lining. To look outside his apartment and enjoy the thundering claps in the sky as it does a light show was second to none. It wasn't a common occurrence in London.

As he walked down the stairs and touched the door knob of the door, his landlord opened his door. George sighed.

He'd been on the receiving end of some complaints from the landlord, some of which haven't even been because of him. Because of the structure of the building, if anyone next door is banging or whatnot everyone can hear it. Unfortunately for George his landlord didn't care and sometimes he got blamed for it. 

"Mr. Davidson. I have a problem."

"Mr. Loney, I apologize but I have to go. I'm late for my class."

The man crossed his arms are groaned. "You were up late last night making noise. I believe it was 1 AM."

George shook his head, annoyed with this. He was up until 1 AM, but he was just walking around. "Okay. And?"

"And" the man dragged his voice. "I would appreciate it if you were less noisy."

"I was just walking to the bathroom."

"You were being noisy, and I'll have to ask to please respect the fact that some of us have to wake up early to go to work."

George noted the irony that he is leaving the building to go to school before Mr. Loney even goes to work. It's like this every other day. "Okay. I mean, if I have to go to the bathroom at 1 AM, I'm going to go to the bathroom. Now I'm going to leave because I'm late. Thank you."

He turned the knob but Mr. Loney wasn't pleased.

"Excuse me, watch your tone. I let you stay here at a favorable price. I could charge you more."

It was a threat he had received multiple times before, even though when he came to meet with Mr. Loney to negotiate the rent they agreed to was put forth by Mr. Loney himself. This threat was less than ideal because Mr. Loney had to increase rent for the next month, to which George has yet to pay because he was originally told he didn't have to. But this is on him because he took Loney at his word when he said it wouldn't be a problem. George is to go home back to the UK before the last week of the month which would typically incur rent. But when George went to pay rent last time, Mr. Loney told he'd need the rent for the next month the day before he leaves. 

How fitting. 

George hasn't put too much thought into it, because he still has about a week and a half before that day comes, but he doesn't want to pay it. There is the option of getting a hotel room for the last couple nights because it'll cost less, but that hotel would be further from campus and it'd be a headache to move from apartment to hotel and then back home. 

This is where making friends during the school year would've been helpful, so that maybe he could room with them next year and not have to get another apartment. But he couldn't do that. His social awkwardness just kept him from making any friends whatsoever. 

"Thank you for your kind words. I'm leaving now."

As he left Mr. Loney made one last statement, "Maybe go to bed sooner if you don't want to be late." He said it in such a gratingly positive way it made George furious. But he really needed to go so there was no reason to turn around and argue more, let alone give him the finger.

Which felt warranted and would've put him in a much better mood.

He may have been right about going to bed earlier though. When he got to class, the last class in a 300 person lecture center, his body immediately crashed. He would type away on his laptop, copying any notes that showed up on the projector along with anything the professor had to say, but he didn't absorb it. He was robotic. His fingers just typed. If he made a spelling error he didn't fix it. Just kept typing.

Towards the end of the class the teacher took attendance using these small devices every student has. How this was done is she would put up several questions on the projector and students would answer them since each device is connected to a student. As George was looking up at the board, eyes half shut, he realized he had no clue what the hell he was looking at. We're talking about questions that are review for the final in a week.

George immediately panicked. He knew he was in trouble. He had struggled in the class but was passing well enough to not be too worried.

He was worried now.

Like rubbing the skin off his clammy palm worried. 

I guess all of those late nights in recent weeks was a bad thing.

The feeling of being homesick had been creeping its way into his mind ever since he came back for the spring semester. Fall semester wasn't too bad because he was just excited to get away from home, but slowly, towards the end of the semester, he started to feel too alone. There was a point where he had been friendly with a couple girls, but he soon found out that it was only because they wanted his help on the group projects they had. 

Now, he's feeling the full effects of being alone and not being home. 

Suddenly the word of Rich Greenfield in year 9 started to make sense. "You are a loser, Davidson. You'll always be a loser."

George sauntered away from class and went to his next one where he felt just as clueless as he did in the previous. Luckily, he was done for the rest of the day and that meant no more classes for the rest of the year. It was time to buckle down and study. His first exam was in 5 days. His final exam was in 9 days, unfortunately being the final for his 1st class today.

*grumble*

His stomach suddenly riots. He never ate breakfast and it was now past noon. He walks through campus and goes to the food court where he grabs a sandwich. After grabbing his food he decides to go eat at a small table up against the long windows which look out at the campus gardens. It's a small area in the campus that is surrounded by long windows. George can peer out and see the two long hallways on each side that connect the different sections of the campus. Inside of the outdoor section are ferns, fan palms and an array of flowers. There are also a couple stone benches that wrap around a small fountain, but nobody is allowed to go in there anymore. Not after a senior from last year broke into the garden and peed in the fountain. George wasn't even a student then and heard about the story so it was clearly a big deal. 

At first he thinks it would be a nice place to hang out and maybe read a book, but then he realized the biggest issue with that; bees. He can see them now. So many bees flying around, attracted to the flowers blooming in their pots along with a couple black iron trellis'.

He has a fear of bees.

Maybe he'd like it more at night.

Something to his right catches his attention. A boy in a green shirt gets up from his chair to throw out his wrapper. Something about the boy catches George's eyes but he can't quite figure it out. 

However, he is awfully self-aware about staring so he looks away before the stranger even meets his eye. But he'd be lying if he wasn't trying to see him in the reflection of the well cleaned window in front of him.

It's actually slightly pathetic.

After eating his food and listening to music, particularly Noah Davis' Lie to Me on repeat, he decides to get up. There was something about the lyrics that made him feel lukewarm. A song about being so in love that even when things are broken you just want to hold on to it. You don't want to accept just how bad your relationship is. 

It's a depressing song in reality but he still likes it.

He decided to go home and take a nap so that he can get ready to study extensively throughout the evening. 

The nap last 5 hours. It was as long as he slept the previous night. He woke up even more tired than he was before the nap. That just created more stress because the exhaustion made him not want to study even though he knew that he had to. 

So he went to get coffee. A large hot coffee with 5 pumps of caramel swirl was all he could ask for. 

With his coffee in hand, laptop and notebook in his backpack he was ready to go to the campus library/computer lab. Over winter break the campus finished this state of the art building that had several computer labs inside. It also acted as a small library in the upper and lower floors. In the top 3 floors of the building there were a couple hundred cubicles or personal work stations which would allow students personal space to study as they please. The floor was designed in a certain pattern. All around the perimeter was these cubicles in a 2-3-2 pattern. Two cubicles would be connected so that people sat on opposite sides. Then it was a row of 3 connected cubicles. Next to those would be another pair of connected cubicles. This continued around the perimeter of the floor. 

After the first floor was filled to capacity he went up to the next floor. Luckily for him he spotted an empty workstation in the corner of the room. That's when he noticed the boy from earlier in the food court. He was sitting at the other corner workstation with earbuds in his ears. The two workstations left a small open are right at the corner of the room where they could place their back packs if need be. 

Or pretend they are in the Blair Witch Project and just stare at the wall. 

George knows that a lot of the time pairs of students will take up the corner workstations during the finals to study together. Similar to when a group of 3 friends may take up the row of 3 connected stations. So he attempted to get the boy's attention.

He waved. Like a dork. 

The other boy, for his effort, looked at him and wore a slight smile on his face. His raised brows were his way of saying "what do you want?"

"Uh," his voice cracked embarrassingly so. "Is it okay if I study here?" he asks pointing to the open workstation.

The boy turns around, "Oh. Sure. Go for it." 

George stands there awkwardly and nods. He feels like he is supposed to wait for the boy to respond but he doesn't actually have to. George asked the question, and the boy answered. And yet here was George making things awkward. "Right," he says as he places his cup down on the desk. When he sits down in the chair he slowly places his face into the palms of his hands. He shakes his head for a few moments cursing himself out in his head. 

The first thing he does is pull out his laptop and his empty notebook which he will use to write down notes. One of the things he noticed when he studied last semester is that he found it easier to retain information that he wrote down rather than read. So he can read his notes or the powerpoints all he wants but what really helps him is simply writing it down. This is something he really only does for classes that he is not comfortable at. 

It is an arduous and painstaking task to rewrite all of his notes and anything that he may have missed from the power points but it works. 

After 3 hours of copying his notes for a couple chapters he leans back in his chair and yawns. He figures he is at the half-way point unless he gets a surprise burst of energy to finish another chapter. 

That's when the boy in the green shirt shows up next to his cubicle. George pulls out his airpod and looks at him. 

"Do you mind watching my stuff while I go to the bathroom?" 

"Uh, no." George says. He could use a small break to go on his phone. 

The boy walks away leaving George to look at him a bit longer than he'd expect. When he looked away he immediately criticized himself from staring. It felt wrong. _But it felt oh so right._

When the boy got back he thanked George and both went back to studying for many hours.

George lost track of time but it was 1:30 AM when he next looked at his phone. He had been studying for a good 7 hours. He looked over his shoulder and saw the boy in the green shirt sitting there with a pen in his hand writing. He couldn't help but take a peak of some of his features including the freckles that he can see that dot across his right cheek. Below he traces the sharpness of the jaw as far as he can down to his chin. 

_Shit. He's kind of hot._

He couldn't tell earlier when he was looking straight at him, but he notices it now. Is it because he is tired? Or was he just too anxious earlier to take notice? Oh both could really be true with him. _Ugh._

The boy placed his pen down and stretched in his chair. He clasped his hands together and reached up into the air. 

_Oh no._ The thought entered his brain. He knew exactly what his eyes were going to do and he didn't bother to stop them. The light green shirt, which he now notices has a small bleach stain in the back, lifts up above his waist eventually showing his lower abdomen. 

George tries to divert his eyesight but before he is able to do, the image is burned into his brain. 

Suddenly his heart begins to race successfully fighting back the exhaustion he was dealing with. Now he wanted to go home for a completely different reason. _Oh lord._

Instead of suffering through another chapter of work George decides to pack up his stuff. As he is doing so he sees the boy in green look over to him before going back to his work. Probably disturbed by George's movements. When he gets up he strangely feels like he should tell the boy that he is leaving, possibly because they literally sat there together for a full 7 hours. When he tossed his backpack behind him the boy looked back, seeing that he was going to leave he shot him a smile. It was brief, he went back to doing his work, but George felt weak. 

On the way back home all he could think about was the boy in the green shirt. Oh and how that green shirt slid up exposing his abdomen and the happy trail below his belly button. That really stood out in George's mind and he couldn't shake until he got home.

_I'm in trouble._


	2. Small Steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly surprised by the nearly 100 hits for the first chapter. I'm also a little surprised that the college setting seems popular, which I now realize is dumb of me lol. This really was just a small little story. I really finished this in 5 days. Maybe I'll have a bigger story after this.
> 
> I do have to ask if smut is wanted. I typically don't do smut but I'm open to it. 
> 
> With that said, if any of the CCs feel uncomfortable and want this taken down I will remove.

The following day George woke up to a note that had been slid under his door. It was a note from his landlord giving him grief for coming home at 2 AM. The audacity of this man to complain about something so ridiculous has become borderline grating. There was nothing in the contract that said George had to be home at a certain time, nothing. It would be beyond ridiculous because it would act as a curfew. 

But George wasn't going to do anything. He just threw the piece of paper into a drawer and left it alone. 

The complaints were coming in at a nearly daily basis now. Two days ago he got a complaint for taking a shower that was too long. Admittedly he was in there for 20 minutes but he was stressed out and showers help de-stress. So now he's forced himself to stick to 10-12 minute showers which creates this uneasy feeling that ruins the peaceful nature a shower should bring someone. 

George knew the next week or so were going to be very stressful and long. After waking up, showering, and grabbing lunch he went straight to study on campus. He enjoyed studying on campus because it's where he feels he can get the most work done. Everyone around him is studying which feeds his desire to study. Whereas if he were home he'd find ways to distract himself with every little thing. For instance, his bed. If he ever studied on his bed like he does when he reads books or some Harry Potter fanfiction he'd just get tired and find an easy excuse to sleep.

Of course there is Mr. Loney. Fuck that guy.

George's 1st round at the campus science library was more focused on the exam that he has coming up first in a few days. An easy coding class that he has never had any trouble in, but he's currently sitting with an average of 94 and he wants a 95 which would give him an A, better than his A-. He determined that he would need a 95.23 to reach 94.5 which would then be rounded up to a 95. He's happy that this professor rounds up because 3 of his other professor don't round up for anything unless you are failing. 

He only stayed at the library for a few hours before going down to get some dinner at the food court. He went to his usual spot and ate a meatball parm sub. He took his time to eat so to let his body and brain relax before the long second round he had planned in the library.

He looked to the right hoping the boy in green was there, but it was just some girl he had seen in the hallways after class. Nobody he was interested in talking to that's for sure.

_No happy trail to look at that's for sure._

Behind him he hears a small commotion due to some of the baseball jocks catching the baseball game on the big screen TV that is in the lounge area. It's a very weird set up but it can be quite entertaining. He recalls coming to the food court on a Sunday evening in February. There were dozens of students sitting around on the red and orange sofas and chairs that littered the area. They also took the chairs that were specifically for dining tables and set them up so people can sit and watch freely. 

It was what the Americans called, The Super Bowl. George had no clue what he was getting into when he came to get some pizza that night. He walked down the stairs to the food court and just saw a zoo of people who were screaming and cheering. Even the janitors were watching the game. He sat far away from the crowd, but he was entertained. It was the first American football game he'd ever seen and the energy from the students was contagious.

~~~~

When he walked to the science library he was greeted by a familiar face.

No, not one that he wanted to see. Not the sharp jaw or the tanned and freckled face of the boy in green. No. Instead it was a girl who wore a purple button down with about a dozen bracelets on her wrist. 

"Hey George!" she said in a bubbly but fake manner.

"Clara. What can I do for you?" He couldn't even pretend to be happy to see her. She was one of the girls he met last year. The one who was in the group projects with him. The one who did none of the work but got the same amount of credit as George. No, correction, she got a 97 and he got a 93 because he did a worse job at presenting. 

_Whatever._

"Oh you remember my name. Great! I'm going to study, how about you?"

George frowned. 

"I think I'm going to study."

She chuckled. It was fake because everything about her was fake. George sighed. "Oh that's nice. You think you could do me a favor?"

She interlocked her arm with George's and slowly dragged him towards the Science Library. He knew he was in trouble and he wanted to get out of it. 

Several meters away he sees the boy from yesterday walking from the stairs he must've just walked up. He wasn't wearing a green shirt this time. It was yellow. and he was walking directly to the Science Library. _Oh come on._

"It depends on what you are about ask me for?"

"Aw, Georgie. I was wondering if you could be a darling and help me study." 

_Absolutely the fuck not._

"I would greatly appreciate it," she adds as she looks up at him. He her hand traced George's forearm in a flirtatious manner.

_Definitely not now._

"Oh Clara," he starts in a sardonic tone. "I have to study for this exam. I wish I could help you, but I really need to make sure I'm ready." 

Clara pulls George closer to her so that his arm is touching her the side of her body. _Girl, I'm a homosexual. Leave me alone!_

George pulls away and laughs awkwardly. "Okay, listen. When is your exam?"

Clara, a little disappointed but hopeful answers, "On Wednesday."

George sighs in his head. "Maybe I can help you Monday night. Depends how I do on my first exam, okay?" He just lied to her. He had no intention in helping her he just wanted to get to the Science Library and away from her.

She smiled and clapped like a little school girl. It made him so uncomfortable. "Perfect. I can't wait to study you." She dragged her finger up George's arm and bit her lip, "I mean with you."

_Yup, the arm is being chopped off!_

It was the cringiest flirting ever. He's had girls flirt with him but never like that. He started to wonder why she even thought that was the right way to convince him to help her study. Was there something he did or said last time that gave this perception that he was interested in her that way? He shivered at the thought.

Surely he could flirt better than her? Social anxiety and all. Right? 

George walked up to the same floor he was at yesterday. The floor wasn't as crowded as it was yesterday, a couple rows of 3 having a seat or two open, but it wasn't what he was looking for. He was looking for that corner he was at yesterday. He remember the peeling paint from the light blue colored walls. He had been drawing circles where it peeled when he was bored and just wanted a break from thinking. 

He found the corner he had sat at. What he did not notice from last night was that nailed into the wall next to the window was a painting of Achilles. He knew the painting from a trip to an art museum. Obviously this was a fake, but he thought it was interesting nevertheless. 

But that wasn't why he was there.

No no. 

It was for the dirty blonde haired boy that was sitting in the same work stations as he was yesterday. Nobody was sitting in the other cubicle. George put his airpods in just to look less suspicious to the young man. When he walked by the cubicle the boy was sitting he caught his eyes look up at him momentarily. He didn't move his head to look at him, just his eyes. But as quickly as he looked at George he had looked away. 

George felt a pang in his chest. There was no real acknowledgement, not even a raised brow. He knew it was ridiculous to be bothered by something so miniscule and pathetic but he couldn't help it.

It wasn't something he could just sit and soil about so he moved on by blasting some Queen music, which usually helps reset his mind when it goes to a place he approves of. He wasn't sure how long he was going to stick around in the library studying but he was determined to finish writing out the notes for this class he's struggling with. With 8 more chapters it could be a much longer night than yesterday.

When he gets to one chapter that he recalls vividly, not because he aced the quiz on it or because he knew it, no. He doesn't understand a lick of it. As part of the notes in his notebook is a long problem and as he looks at the problem and the answer that comes with it he simply cannot explain why the answer is what it is. He found himself sighing out loud before dropping the pen on the table and sitting back to stretch. He looked down at his phone and saw that it was just past 9PM. He figured he was a little less than half way done, but if he sits here thinking about this one problem he'll be here till dawn before he gets it. 

Suddenly a hand appears on his shoulder causing time to freeze. _Who the hell is touching me?_ When he looks up he sees the tired face and the messy dirty-blonde hair of the boy who had been sitting next to him. _Ah yes, Prince Charming._

"Hey, hate to bother you, but can you watch my stuff again? I'm gonna go grab dinner."

"Yeah, sure. I could use a break anyways."

The boy smiled and tucked one of his hands into his jean pockets before turning around and leaving. 

He said again. So he did recognize George as well. Thoughts of the implications of this ran wild in George's mind. Could he possibly strike up a conversation with the boy? Or is he making more out of the interaction than he should? Honestly he'd probably just make the boy think he is weird.

"Why do I do this to myself?" George thought. His mind cannot make up what it wants to do let alone accurately divvy up the positives and negatives. Even though the negatives find a way to the surface a lot faster than the positives. If George ever sees a positive in a situation it's like the negative side of his brain gets offended and throws 3 negatives at him, each getting worse causing a spiraling, anxiety filled trip to loneliness. 

Suddenly he wondered how Clara viewed him. Did she know he was just a loser? Why would she get so close and flirty to a loser then? Why couldn't it be this boy who flirted with him?

_I don't even know his name. AGH!_

He sighed again not caring if anyone heard him. He grabbed his phone, cranked up the volume to the music and mindlessly toiled away on the internet. 

After about 20 minutes, the boy came back. He had a sandwich in one hand and an energy drink in the other. When he arrived to his seat George looked over to him.

The boy met his eyes, smiled and gave him a small wave. "Thanks, man."

George just smiled in return and went back to his work. 

The two of them stayed in their work stations until 3AM. George had just finished writing his last bit of notes. He stood up to stretch his legs and peered out to the room. It was about a quarter full as kids went back to their dorms or homes to sleep. They probably had the healthier style of studying, George thought to himself. But this worked for him or so he believed.

After stretching his legs he realized just how tired he was so he began to pack up. Suddenly the boy next to him also began to pack up. He caught the boy's gander when he went to throw away his empty cup of coffee, which had been empty since 7PM. 

The boy seemingly realized how tired George's eyes looked. "Probably should've refilled that," he wore a tired smile on his face. 

"Yeah, maybe next time," he replies with a smile back. "Just won't get caramel."

They share a light chuckle. "Caramel, huh?" he says as places his laptop into his backpack. "I' more of a mocha kind of guy."

George doesn't say anything but he does acknowledge that he heard what he said with a little eyebrow raise. 

Suddenly the two of them are walking one behind the other down the stairs and out the science library. They walk silently, George feeling really awkward because he wants to say something but small conversation with strangers is not his forte. 

Not at all.

_Why can't I just say something? Anything? Ask him what he was studying? Ask him when his first test is? Hell, ask him where he lives?_

He asks nothing. _You really are the worst._

"Alright man. This is my way. I'll see you."

George doesn't say anything. He just waves.

_What the fuck was that? You could've said bye at least._


	3. A Leap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight warning on some of the topics mentioned here. Brief mention of drugs and alcohol along with I guess you could call it sexual assault but NOTHING extreme at all. We're not going down that route.
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoy. I struggled more with the name of this chapter than actually writing it lol.
> 
> If any of the CC's wish for this to be removed I will do so.

Another day, another complaint from his landlord who lamented that George got home later than the previous night. George slid it right into the drawer and grew further agitated with these complaints. One thing that is really bothering George now is how his landlord seemingly always wakes up when he gets home. There is no way someone is that big of a light sleeper. George is a heavy sleeper, can easily sleep through a torrent of alarms, but for someone to wake up to light footsteps just sounds asinine.

He wants to complain but he knows it will just do him more worse than good.

He repeats what he did the previous day by going to the library for a couple hours then going to get food only to end up back in the library. 

The boy from the previous two nights was there. This time he had a blue shirt and a hoodie that was draped over the chair. When it gets really late and people start to leave the central air really kicks in leaving the building a bit on the chilly side. Like not too cold but cold enough for a hoodie. 

And now George is wishing he had brought a hoodie. He had brought his large collection of hoodies to Florida even though he knew it was hot here. There was maybe a couple evenings over the winter where he got away with wearing it. At least they look nice hanging in the closet.

After about an hour of studying a girl walked up to them to ask about joining some club next year. George and the boy gave each other a look. They both wanted to interrupt her and tell her that they weren't interested but after her spiel she said, "It would be wonderful if you two would join, especially if you're friends. Our club benefits pairs of people and is why I approached you."

The boy chuckled and cocked his head. "Uh we're not friends, miss. I don't even know his name."

The girl looked shocked. "Oh dear. I saw you two here yesterday when I was doing my rounds. I just figure, oh, this is just embarrassing. I apologize."

_Thanks lady._

George gives her the finger in his head.

The other boy plays it off cooler than George ever could. "Ah I see. Yeah, no he's just a grinder like me." His glance stays on George for a second _too_ long.

The girl purses her lips and nods understandingly. "Well you two could still join." She seems less enthusiastic and confident now. 

Clay flashes a confident smile which immediately makes George's heart skip a beat. Or two. _Maybe three_. "I'm sorry, I think I have to pass. And judging by the silence of my late night study partner I don't think he's interested either."

_Late night study partner?_

The girl looks at George who shrugs and affirms what the other boy said.

"I see, well thanks for hearing me out anyways. Good luck on your exams," she says with a broad smile before turning her attention to the next group of students.

The boy looked at George and rolled his eyes with a curious smile on his face. He then, to George's surprise, turns around in his chair and sticks his hand out. "It's weird that we've sat here for 3 days now and I don't even know your name. I'm Clay."

Clay. 

George said his name a few more times in his head. That was going to be fuel for his imagination later.

"Uh, I'm George." He nervously puts his hand out and shakes Clay's hand. The grip was firm on his hand. It was warm too. 

George felt like he was outside in the middle of the street during a major thunderstorm and had just been struck by lightning. He readjusted in his chair to hide any potential clues of his excitement and took a deep breath. 

"You plan on staying long again?"

George nods. 

"Cool."

George couldn't help but smile.

The two turned back around and continued to study. George began to feel tired which caused him to yawn a couple times. He wondered if he should go get coffee but he wanted to finish studying this section of his notes before doing so. 

However, as he did he remembered something from a party last year. It was about Clay and he couldn't understand why he hadn't recalled that moment before. 

Then he remembered. The creepy cab driver. Oh lord.

That night was his first time ever going to a party and it was about 15 minutes away from his home, by car. He had to take the bus to it, a bus that many students frequently used to get there. What he was expecting wasn't quite what he endured. He knew there would be enough alcohol to stock an entire bar, drugs, and the occasional sexual intercourse. The thing is he wished that was all it was going to be. 

He entered the house, having to pay $5 to enter while women entered for free, which felt wrong to George. The primary reason women were allowed in free was so that the men had easier access to them. It was so strange for George to hear how the men would talk about women who just walked by them. George is no stranger to looking at a guy and thinking about what he wants to do with them, but he'd never say it out loud. Especially not loud enough so that they could hear. That's insane.

As he continued into the house there was already a distinct odor of marijuana. In the living room there were at least two dozen people gathered, bongs on the table, a line of hard liquor on the entertainment center, and some other substances. That is when he knew the party was going to be bad.

He had only come because he was invited by Clara and her friend Ana. He never saw them at the party. He had ask a guy about them and the guy just told him that they'd be upstairs but warned George not go there unless he is expected. 

George didn't think too much about that and proceeded to go downstairs to the basement.

Which was where he saw Clay. Clay was being held by his knees while doing a handstand on a keg, otherwise known as a kegstand. As he watched, a drunk guy came up to him and handed him a red cup. 

"Go get wasted, dude!" He slurred his speech, saliva escaping his mouth and hitting George on his eyebrow. George, after wiping away the disgusting foreign substance, decided he was going to make the best of it. He was going to get some alcohol. 

Except he couldn't. The basement was packed. And it was hot as fuck. He was sweating through his white shirt he then realized was a massive mistake to wear. There were other guys wearing white shirts and it was apparent that they were sweating too.

It was not hot to see guys' body through their shirts like this.

So he left. 

As he turned to leave a guy bumped into him and spilled his beer on him. George apologized and just walked away and out the door. This is where the night got worse. He desperately needed a cab back home and he wasn't in the greatest neighborhood in Florida. He stood at the corner near where the house was located and waited for a cab to arrive. When one did he made the mistake of getting into the front seat. He just wanted to get out of there and he didn't think.

Instantly he felt a weird vibe come from the guy next to him, an older Cuban man who wore some weird beige flannel shirt. The car smelt like cheap cologne and old meat. George decided to give him the address to the school's campus, where there would be people outside. He didn't feel comfortable giving the man his address.

As the man drove he started asking questions about school, which seemed harmless. Then the questions went to the party and how George was sweaty and smelled like beer. George explained how someone spilled beer on him.

Then it got worse.

"Feel free to take off the shirt, my man." George didn't look at him but he felt the man's eyes glare.

"I-I'm good, thank you." 

They didn't say much afterwards but the man kept making eye contact with George. George felt violated because he could tell the man was undressing him in his mind. He wanted to get out but he knew he wasn't close enough to the school to do so just yet.

So he let the awkward atmosphere linger without saying anything.

When they got to the school the man priced him out, "$25."

He knew that was too much. He'd taken a cab from further out and it would cost less. 

"$25? That seems steep." In retrospect he wished he had just forked over the cash and got out of the car. But because he didn't he opened the door to what happen next.

The older man smiled deviously, his eyes gandered south, and he placed his hand on George's leg. "Could be free if you'd like." 

_No. Fuck all the way to the no._

George quickly reacted and threw the man's hand off of him and flew out of the car. He didn't pay the man shit. He instead yelled, "Don't fucking touch me." There were a few people around who immediately turned their attention to what was going on. A security guard was nearby and began to approach the cab. 

That's when the driver drove away fiercely, almost hitting a taxi.

The guard asked George if everything was okay. 

"Yeah, just a creep." 

The guard nodded, "Mhm. Do be careful about those unmarked cabs. Stick with the official cabs like those," he says pointing to the two cabs nearby. They were mostly white with some yellow and black checkerboard pattern that went around the middle of the car. "They may cost more, but they are safer. Even Uber is safer since you can see and leave reviews."

"Thank you," George says.

The moment didn't scar George, but he certainly didn't care for remembering it. 

He yawned again in his chair. He was almost done with the chapter but it was really slugging along. He looked over when he saw movement in his peripheral vision. Clay was stretching which gave George a glimpse of-- _No! I can't._

George felt wrong for looking at him that way. Although it wouldn't stop him from thinking about him later tonight. 

The boy got up and after flashing a smile he walked away leaving his stuff behind him. George watched him saunter off, toying away on his phone only to walk by the bathroom. Furthermore, he walked to the staircase and then down them. George thought it was strange that he didn't even ask him to watch his stuff. He just assumed he would. 

Which he did, but still. Was he that comfortable and trusting of George? 

This also meant that George had to wait for Clay to get back before he went to go and get coffee. So it was back to studying in the meantime.

But he yawned again and decided to distract himself by going on instagram. He doesn't follow a lot of people, mostly accounts for the memes, but he does follow Clara. So he clicked on her profile, something he's never done. 5 of the first 6 picture he sees is of her and this big guy. 

Her boyfriend.

_Why the fuck was she caressing my arm!? She's trying to get me killed._ George looked at this one picture at a beach. He is shirtless as hell with bulging biceps and a pectoral area that was bigger than George's whole body. 

_Yup, I'm gonna die._

He turned off the app and just scrolled through twitter. 

About 25 minutes later, Clay comes back and startles George by tapping him on his shoulder. He had fallen asleep.

Clay, eyes widened and chuckling, puts his food and drink down. However there was something else in his hand. He turned and held it out to George. "Caramel, right?" His smile was perfect. The right amount of confidence and friendliness. 

"Uh-" was all George could muster causing Clay to giggle. He placed it down on George's table and sat down at his seat. 

"Thanks," George whispers. 

"Don't mention it, George."

The way he said George's name made his heart flutter. The smile that was on his face was making him melt. George's eyes scanned his face again and noticed, for the first time, the light green eyes that belonged to the other boy. 

"Oh can I borrow your iPhone charger? I left mine at home."

George nods and hands him the charger, their fingers lightly gracing each other. 

"Thanks."

George shook his coffee a bit to mix the caramel that may have fallen to the bottom of the cup if it wasn't properly mixed and takes a sip. It's not as sweet, probably 4 pumps of caramel rather than the 5 he normally gets. He didn't care. It was enough to reboot his body and mind to study for several more hours.

George was flying through the notes he had, finally starting to make sense of stuff that he learned in class. He still hasn't gotten to the stuff from the last few weeks that he is struggling with but everything is connected. If he understand the stuff from earlier in the year better it'll perhaps help him understand everything else.

Although, the problem that he struggled with yesterday screamed in the back of his head. This problem was in the next chapter. As he read the chapter, some of it began to make sense, but the numbers in the problem were just too different. 

He hated that he had to take an accounting course all because he decided to do a minor in business management to go with his computer science major. He thought it would be a good idea to get that minor in his record, but he was not expecting something as boring and tedious as this.

He sighed.

The other boy looked over, no longer with his airpods in his ear and saw the frustration on George's face. "Struggling?"

George nodded. 

Clay leaned back in his chair, doing a delicate balance with the legs of the chair, so he could get a better look at what George was doing. He recognized it. "Ah. Accounting. That's easy." 

George just glared at him plain-faced. 

Clay stifled a laugh with a hand over his mouth and got up from his seat. He took a step towards George and leaned in to look at his laptop. When he leaned in, his scent jumped off his shirt which was more cyan than blue, and attacked George's nose. There was a piney odor to go with what he believed to be the smell of downy fabric softener. Both of which enveloped another odor. An odor that was distinctively Clay's.

George wonders if he should see a therapist for studying Clay's odor. _Nope, nobody can help me._

"So what's your issue?" Clay queries as he places his hand on the back of George's chair causing him to graze his shoulder.

"I don't know how to get from point A to point B." 

Clay's eyes widen. He strains his eyes to look closely at the notes that George has and then points to the pen nearby. George nods giving him permission to borrow the pen. Clay gets down to a knee and starts writing in the notebook. He writes in several places around the answer and it's work. When he is done he puts the pen down and looks at George. George stares at him a bit too long, _again,_ before he looks down at the paper. He immediately notices the difference in handwriting. His is borderline chicken-scratch while Clay's is nice and tidy. _Of course he has perfect handwriting._

"I remember this question from last semester. It's not complicated, but you don't learn the exact way to do it in class if I recall correctly. You are supposed to-" he stumbles and then rolls his eyes. "You are supposed to think creatively, I believe my professor told me." 

George kept looking at the little notes and started to put the pieces together. He didn't fully understand it but it made more sense. 

"If you put this question into google, you may find more questions like it that'll be on your exam." He winks at George and adds, "But you didn't hear that from me." 

George stifles a chuckle, "Suddenly I'm deaf." 

They both chuckle causing a couple students to shush them.

"Oops," Clay mouths to George. 

He gets up and taps George's shoulder before heading back to his chair to keep studying. Meanwhile, George decides to take his advice and puts the question into google. What he finds feels illegal. There are questions that were on the midterms here. It's like they were taken directly from this site and put on the test. 

Clay gets up again and sees that George has taken his advice and gives him a thumbs up. 

"I'm going to the vending machines to get a snack, you want something? Doritos?"

George felt awkward to say yes, but his stomach grumbled as if it was answering for him. So he nodded and again watched Clay leave. He came back with 3 bags of chips; sour cream & onion, cool ranch doritos and nacho cheese doritos. He tossed the sour cream & onion bag on his table and held up the two doritos bags giving George the option. 

George picks the nacho cheese and catches the bag when it is thrown at him. He takes a deep breath and stretches out his back before looking at the time on his phone. 

2:14AM.

Yikes. Just how long was he going to stay there?

George and Clay exited the Science Library when it closed at 4AM. 

George reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet as he walked with Clay. He pulled out a 5 and handed it to the other boy. "For the coffee and chips." 

The boy rejected it. "Dude, don't worry. It was my treat." 

"Yeah but you don't even know me. It doesn't feel right."

The dirty-blonde haired boy slowed his steps and hummed. "Okay. Fair enough. Buy me lunch tomorrow then," he said with a grin. 

"Lunch?" 

"Yup. Seems fair. You pay me back and I get a meal out of it." 

George got nervous. 

"Think of it as a way for us to get to know each other," he adds. He studied the eyes of the shorter boy and saw trepidation. "What? I thought you'd like to get to know me?"

"Why's that?" George asked without thinking.

Clay laughed. "You did sit next to me for three night in a row. I actually wondered today if you were going to show up. You were late."

George felt his cheeks warm. He was embarrassed. _He's attentive. He knows that the first two nights I got there at 6 but today I got there around 6:20._

"Would you have missed me if I didn't come?" George felt a strange sense of confidence suddenly flood his mind. 

Clay stopped walking as they arrived at a flight of stairs and looked at George wide eyed and giggling. "Woah. You struggle to say a word to me for 98% of the, what, 25-ish hours we've seen each other these 3 days and suddenly think you can flirt with me? That's uncouth."

"Sorry," George mumbled.

The taller boy laughed and slammed his hand on George's shoulder a couple times. "Don't take it too harshly. I'm just messing with you." A silence fell between the two boys. Clay slipped his hand under his back-packs strap and cocked his head. "I think I would've missed you. As weird as that sounds." 

_I think I've died and gone straight to heaven._

"Excuse me?"

Clay nervously laughed and fidgeted in his spot. "Well we did have a respectful thing going. We watched each other's belongings, you let me borrow your charger without a fuss. I don't know." He struggled to make eye contact half the time as he spoke. 

"So," he restarted, "lunch. 2 PM?" 

"Uh, sure. Yeah, I'm down." _I'm totally not. I'm actually freaking out._

Clay flashed that perfect smile again and held out his hand. When George shook it he said, "It's a date then." He winked, catching George off guard. 

_What the fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments or questions would be appreciated.


	4. The Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight warning for reference to drugs.
> 
> Besides that I think you guys/gals will enjoy this chapter. It's very important to the story. ^_^
> 
> If any of the CC's want this fic removed I will do so.

George arrived outside the campus center a few minutes earlier than the planned meet up time with Clay. He woke up pretty nervous and was still nervous. He couldn't shake the overflowing amount of confidence Clay had when he spoke to him yesterday.

It felt foreign.

It felt _awesome_.

He was wary though. The treatment by Clara and Ana last year, them making him believe they were friends only to ghost him left him feeling raw. That along with the general loneliness he has felt this semester made him question continuing education in America. But he wanted to live in America and getting an education here can help him get a job here too. He hoped to make a friend or two before it's all set and done, but he has failed at that in his first year.

Clay opens the opportunity for him to succeed.

But what does an attractive guy who seemingly parties like an animal want with George? There's no way he doesn't view him as a loser. So then why want to get lunch? All of this played mind games with George, but when he saw Clay walking along the sidewalk under the oppressive sun those thoughts quickly dissipated. 

Clay walked by him and smiled. George followed him as if Clay held a leash around his neck, but no he was just an infatuated dork who can follow someone who doesn't say anything and just flashes their beautiful face. _It's fine._

The university's food court has a Wendy's on the far side of it. It's a little out of the way, not in the center where most of the foot traffic is, but that's because it tends to get a lot of foot traffic itself. The only other place that gets as much demand is the Auntie Anne's, which is located on the complete other side of the food court. People like their cinnamon pretzel bites. 

It being a Saturday means there will be more kids as usual walking around, giving shield to the grotesque paint job of the tiles below there feet. For some reason the designers thought a pink and lime green look would be a good idea. As George dodges a chewed up piece of gum he disagrees whole heartedly. It's like someone tried too hard to get an 80's aesthetic but then gave up. 

They got their food and walked through the food court once again, George still following Clay. Clay looked back a couple times, to make sure the shorter boy was behind him. He brought them to a spot George knows all to well. 

"I think you like this spot, right?" Clay asks with a smirk. He puts his backpack around the chair and places his food down on the table. In front of them is the campus gardens. It's where George always sits for dinner.

"So do you just watch me?" George asks feigning a smirk. 

Clay laughs. "Nah. I've just seen the back of your head staring at the flowers a few times is all."

"You make me sound like a loser," George remarked. Clay laughed again. 

He put his hand up as he chewed his food. After wiping the corner of his mouth he said, "I thought I made you sound cute."

_What._

"Um-" George didn't know what to say. 

The other boy wheezed for a few seconds. He dropped his left foot from the high chair and set it on the ground allowing him to turn his body a little to face George. "See that's cute. 75% of our interactions so far have been you unable to know what to say. You look lost."

 _Oh my god. He's noticed too much._ George looks down at his food and wonders if he should just run away. If he's noticing all of these things, did he notice George checking him out?

"What if I am?" George muttered as he played with his food. He felt pathetic. The words from Rich Greenfield blare in his head once again. Nothing Clay is saying makes him feel cute, but instead he feels like a loser.

Clay didn't respond. He studied the shorter boy's flipped mannerisms and mood. When George looked up their eyes met. The taller boy examined his hazel brown eyes. Feeling like he could get lost in them he decides to answer George.

"Then someone just needs to find you."

A heavy silence befell them. 

George'e glance petered out and he went back to looking at the colorful flowers on the other side of the glass.

They sat and ate their food in silence, which bothered both of them for totally different reasons.

For George he was completely convinced that he blew his chance at being Clay's friend. That he let his own lack of self-confidence get the best of him and now Clay doesn't want to talk to him. He's battling the idea of being pathetic with the idea that he's overreacting to that idea, which in result makes him pathetic. A negative feedback loop that makes it hard to swallow the burger he's trying to consume.

Clay, on the other hand, feels he came off too strong. He looks into the glass catching George in the reflection. _Why am I so enamored by him? What is making me feel pulled in?_ He can see the discomfort in George's face, like he didn't want to be there anymore. 

With that said, his stubbornness cannot be quelled. "My friends and I were invited to a party tonight. The last party of the semester before the week of hell." George looked up, but his face gave no emotion. Rummaging in his hair, Clay continues, "Do you want to come?"

_No._

George's instinct immediately scream at him. Going with Clay would only spell disaster for him. 

But.

Clay looked sincere. His face displaying an unexplainable mix of emotions. The smile was small, not that broad, confident smile George had become attached to. His eyes seemed like they were searching for something on George's face. Maybe the answer he wanted to hear.

George knew he may regret what was about to escape his mouth but he did nothing to stop it. "What time?"

The smile brightened leading George to smile himself. He could feel flush so he looked down and picked away at his food. 

"8PM. We'll go study for a few hours, go home, and meet outside campus."

George delayed his response. He was already in and Clay had a hold of him. He couldn't get out now. There'd be no way back if he did. He didn't have a choice. 

"Sounds good to me," he tried to say confidently. 

Clay caught the nearly silent sound of regret in George's voice. 

~~~~~~~

"You look good," Clay says as George approaches him outside the campus. Clay is wearing a light green and white striped button down. Both of the cuffs at the end of the shirt a delicately rolled up once or twice showing off his biceps slightly more than usual. One thing George noticed was Clay's hair was still slightly unkempt, like he didn't even bother fixing it. 

The ragged look was kind of hot.

Meanwhile, George had no clue what to wear. He threw on a pair of chinos, light brown ankle socks and a grey button down. He knew not to wear something that could be turn transparent when meshed with liquids after last time. 

George didn't reply to Clay's remark. He'd probably mumble, struggling to get his tongue out of the way and well nobody wants that. _Nobody_.

The two hopped on a bus to be brought to the party. George sat, constantly shifting in his seat as Clay looked on. He was nervous. He had no place going to a party especially with Clay. If Clay didn't hate him now, he will when he decides to just leave out of nowhere. 

The house they walked up to is larger than the house that he went to last semester. It also looked cleaner and was in a better neighborhood. White columns shot up from the front porch to the overhang with another column the goes from the overhang to the roof. The column on the second floor connects a balcony to a column on the right side of the house. Both the porch and the balcony have a horde of students who are drinking. George looks past Clay who is standing next to him currently acknowledging who George assumes are his friends. On the corner of the street is a police car. 

They don't seem too concerned.

George takes one more look at the house. _Oh these people are rich._

Clay placed a hand on center of George's back unexpectedly and guided him into the home. He leaned in and whispered into his ear, "Don't be afraid." His other hand grabbed George's right arm and lightly pulled it. 

George didn't even realize it but he was rubbing his right palm with his left thumb. 

In moments Clay detaches from George and walks over to a group of guys who saw him. George felt robotic and lost at the same time. He slowly followed Clay, but wasn't listening to anything that was being said. The floor was open-concept, a large living room that went directly to a kitchen. To the left of the kitchen was what looks like a dining room. There were two long tables, one meant for beer pong and the other acting like a bar table. There was Ciroc, Svedka, Whiskey, Rum and numerous mixers. 

There was one massive jug with a cork in the top of it. The contents inside made George feel ill. The drink was a dark shade of green and there was no label on the outside of it. 

Clay turned back and saw George's attention had been seized.

"Ho oh! You looking at the good stuff," he says as he grabs the handle of the jug. He caresses the outside of it while walking towards the shorter boy. "This is my boys' special drink." He pops the cork from the jug and pours some out into a plastic red cup. He takes a sip of it and slaps his lips. "Perfect." 

Holding the cup out he is begging George to take a sip from it. George shakes his head worried that it'll be bad, but Clay insists. "Come on, Georgie." He drags out the end of the sentence like he's whining. "I would never lead you astray."

George just looked at him, "You brought me here."

Clay laughs. "To be fair you followed me. Where's that trust now?" He's teasing. He knows that he has George's attention. 

George gives in and reaches for the cup but Clay pulls it away. "Don't do it for me, Georgie. I don't want to pressure you to drink." His voice became tender, "I just want you to relax. But if drinking will tense you out more, then I'll need you to take care of me." He stifled a chuckle but his infectious smile fought through anyways. 

George steps forward and places a hand on the cup, grazing Clay's fingers. "Let's see what is so special about this then." He didn't want to drink that much, but he wanted to relax. The tension in his shoulders were causing a knot to form behind his blade. It was just another part of his body aching. 

He took a swig of the cup, carefully getting a taste for what's in it and when he didn't immediately throw it up he took a longer sip. Across for him, an impressed Clay stood with his arms crossed. "Oh we're going to have a good time now."

He was right and wrong. 

The moment George took another sip of the drink was the moment he descended into the chaos that was a frat house. Clay was not a part of a frat, but his friend Nick was. This was his frat's party. That meant alcohol was damn near limitless and the games to be played were too. Clay made sure that George tagged along with everything that he did. Everything was a new experience for George. From playing flip cup, and winning the game for his team, which resulted in him celebrating with a shot of vodka, to playing multiple games of beer pong with Clay as his partner.

Clay did try to get him to do a Kegstand, but he was sober enough to pass on that. He did however, hold Clay's leg up as he was doing the Kegstand. 

Now here's the thing about alcohol. It fucks with your mind. It makes you think that you are in control or that you are capable of control but you never really are. So as George found himself drinking more and more past his limit, he also failed to control his eyes from wandering. 

With Clay's shirt falling down as he was upside down, it exposed his abdomen. George could not keep his eyes from looking down as each of Clay's abs. They weren't well defined, but they were there nevertheless. 

Nick, who was nearby saw him constantly looking down. "Hey hey! My brother here needs a drink." He thought George was just watching Clay drink and wanted some himself. So he poured a cup of the "special" juice and held it up to George's mouth. 

The collective chant of "chug chug chug!" roared through the basement. 

So he chugged it down. When he finished up, Clay ended his kegstand. Both of the boys looked at each other, wiped their mouths of leftover alcohol and laughed. They laughed that ugly drunken laugh.

Later that night George made the biggest mistake of the night. He sat down on a couch. He sat there, slowly sipping at a bottle of Gatorade that Clay gave him, for about a half hour. When he got to pee, all of the alcohol he had drank hit him at once. He was feeling the impacts of it before, but once he got up the room started to spin and his legs felt nonexistent. Thankfully, Clay was there to prop him.

"Alrighty, someone had too much to drink."

George, giggling, puts his thumb and pointer finger up close together and says, "Just a tad." 

Nick nods to Clay who seems to understand what he means, but George doesn't. 

Clay helps George up the stairs, which George had looked up and said, "Why are there 30 steps?"

Clay burst into a wheeze. "Georgie, there are only 13 steps."

George looks up the stairs and then back at Clay. He pokes at his chest, "And you say I drank too much."

The other boy just shook his head and lightly pushed him along and up the stairs with one hand on the center of his back. When they got to the bathroom Clay opened the door and walked in with him. George, confused as to why Clay was there just gave him a look and asked, "Why are you here?"

"I really don't need you falling down while you pee. I'm just holding you up and you are doing the aiming." He looked at George who then looked at the toilet. "Tell me you are capable of aiming, George. Please."

George laughed. Then a mischievous smile appeared on his face. "I don't think I am Clay."

"What?! Don't look at me like that!" He laughs hysterically. He was completely taken by surprise by the brazenness of the other boy. He points to the toilet, "Go! I'm holding you up. You aim."

George turns around and unzips. Clay stands behind him so that he can properly hold George up. "Just don't look. You are tall." 

"Shut up," Clay retorted. Both of them giggling in sync. 

When George was done and zipped up his pants, Clay was still holding him. George tried taking a step, but stumbled. He fell further into Clay who fell back into the wall behind him. His hands, which had been under both of the shorter boy's arms slipped forward. He suddenly found his arms wrapped around George as he hit the wall. 

"You okay?" Clay asked. His arms were still wrapped around George, whose body was pressed up against his. Clay could barely ignore the other boy's warm body. 

"Uh, yeah. Sorry," George said is a hushed voice. 

For George it was the sudden realization that he was resting up against Clay's body that caused his body to internally freak out. He had been checking him out all night, even joking with him just moments ago. 

Even in his drunken state he knew they were in that position for a few seconds too long. But time had stopped. and everything was still. George could feel Clay's chest rise and fall. It was a dangerous but electrifying moment for him. 

George reluctantly separates from Clay and refuses to look at him. He can't understand what he is feeling and why. The alcohol won't permit him to put the pieces together. 

"You sure you are alright?" Clay asks as he straightens himself. He places his hand on George's shoulder and gives it a light squeeze causing the drunken boy to look up at him. He nods and forces himself to walk as straight as he can to the door and out with Clay right behind him. When they get to the staircase Clay grabs George's arm right above his elbow. "Slowly, Georgie."

 _Georgie_.

A young man, one of Clay's friends shows up when they get down to the bottom of the stairs. George tries to remember his name. Nick, he thinks it is. He has a cup of that purple juice in his hand and he is handing it to George. Before he could grab it, even though he didn't want it, it is intercepted by Clay. 

"Nick, he doesn't need anymore alcohol. Go get him a bottle of water. I don't trust your friends," his tone shifted slightly. George was confused because he still had a bottle of Gatorade sitting in the other room that he hadn't finished. 

"Oh, my bad Clay. I didn't know he was done drinking." He was sincere. He took the cup back from Clay and walked into the kitchen while George and Clay stood up against hallway wall. There were a few art painting nailed to the walls. The ground had a nice dark wood design on it. It almost bothered George that it was being ruined by all of the drunk people inside. 

Moments later Nick comes back with an unopened bottle of water. He goes to hand it George, but that too is intercepted by Clay who begins to inspect it. 

"They wouldn't touch the water, Clay." 

"No? You sure about that? You know how they are with new people." 

Nick frowned. "Not your people. You are my best friend, they wouldn't put viag-" 

Clay shook his head. "Stop." He looks at George who is just staring at the both of them. "Not in front of him."

He hands George the bottle of water and tells him to sip it slowly and not to put it down anywhere. "Keep it in your hands, okay?" His voice was soft but stern like he was the parent ordering his child. 

"Nick, watch him please. I'm going to go pee." 

Nick nodded. 

As soon as Clay got upstairs a group of boys came into the hallway cheering. They saw and grabbed Nick who tried to resist but he couldn't escape the parade of frat boys who were taking him away for who knows what. So George was left alone at the bottom of the stairs. 

But being alone in a frat house with guys who like to mess around is never a good thing. Even for a few moments, a frat boy can come out of nowhere and see you as a target. A skinny, drunk boy who has never been seen before? Blood in a tank full of sharks. An asshole fratboy can smell a vulnerable target from a mile away, or in this case, a room away. 

A larger man dressed in red and black approaches George.

"Hey buddy, having a good time?"

George nods. The man slams his hand on George's shoulder. _Definitely not as tender as Clay._ He pulls George with him and brings him a back room. In the room are several young men and women. It's what on the table in front of them that catches George. White lines of a powdery substance, a substance George knows to be cocaine, rest on the surface of the antique table. 

"We got a new toy to have fun with, boys!" 

It doesn't register what that means in George's head. He can barely stand up on his own two feet. 

When the guy pushes him to the ground to sit, he doesn't resist. One the girls sitting next to him brushes his face with her finger. "He's cute."

A red headed guy from across the table laughs. "Oh look, Erica has her eye on some fresh meat." The other guys laugh. 

The girl traces her finger down George's arm and then to the inside of his thigh. Before she goes further the ginger stops her. "Hold on now. You know how this goes, Erica." He laughs ominously as he gets up from his chair and walks over to George. "So we like to have fun here and we reward those who take part. My friend, Allan, decided to pick you to have fun."

"Uh huh," George says as he looks down at Erica's hand which is still on his thigh. 

"Do a line, and my girl Erica will show you a good time." 

George's brain quickly sounded the alarm. This was not good. _Where was Clay? He should be done by now. Is he not looking for me?_

"I'm sorry. I'm not interested."

The guy bellows. "Oh I'm sorry. I don't think I made myself clear. I wasn't giving you a choice really. But if you really don't want to, then I can just beat the shit out of you here."

George panicked. He tried to get up but the guy shoved him back down and sucked his teeth. "Now now, that's not an option." The man grabs George's head and slowly pushes it to the table.

"Where the fuck is he?" George can hear someone familiar yell on the other side of the door. "Is he in there?!" The door slams open and Clay is there. Erica is startled and shimmies away from George. The other guys get up, one moving towards Clay. 

"Clay!?" another voice calls out. George thinks it is Nick but he can't see as the red headed guy is still holding his head just inches away from the table. 

"Let him go," Clay says calmly. 

"Or what?"

"Irv, let him go." the other voice says. 

"Nick, you don't think you can give me orders. I'm the one who got you into this frat or do you not remember?"

The grip on George's head and hair got tighter. He wanted to blow the substance away but he feared it would only end up with him in the hospital so he tried to compose himself so not to accidentally do so.

"We don't target friends, Irv. George is my friend."

_How does he know my name?_

Not once this evening did Clay tell Nick his name and he never offered it himself. In hindsight, that seems weird, but George couldn't quite understand why.

The grip lessened allowing George to take a deep breath and get up. Clay quickly rushes to George and pulls him away from the table. Clay's hand reaches up to George's face, but only for a moment before he placed it in on his shoulder. "You okay? Did you snort any of that shit?"

George, rattled by the reality of the events that just occurred and could've progressed if Clay had arrived moments later, just shakes his head. 

Clay notices George is shaking and brings him out of the room and to the front door. He catches the attention of another guy, Luke, and tells him to watch him. Nick joins them, but Clay drags him to the kitchen pass the hallway.

Yelling erupts between them, well only from Clay.

"I fucking asked you to watch him. 1 minute, Nick. You couldn't do that for me?!" Nick tried to rebuttal, but Clay cut him off. "I don't want to hear it Nick. I told you I don't trust them." Clay looked at George realizing that he was hearing everything and continued with what he was saying at a lower tone. He couldn't hear what Clay finally said, but he was able to see Nick apologize. 

George wanted to walk over to them, but Luke grabbed him. "Oh hell no. I'm not getting yelled at by Clay. You stay right here."

Clay and Nick shared a few more words, mostly just Clay speaking in a demonstrative way and then they separated. Clay thanked Luke and told George to follow him outside. 

George and Clay didn't say anything. The taller boy got them a taxi and gave him an unknown address. George's eyes stared outside the window as he felt still shaken up by what happened in that room and by the anger Clay had displayed. He felt like it was his fault and now Clay had to leave the party to babysit him. 

If George hadn't come he wouldn't have been picked on, Clay wouldn't have argued with his best friend, and he wouldn't have left the party. 

The car pulled up in front of a large home. The first thing he noticed was the large garage that was connected to a driveway. The house was beige colored with 4 windows, 3 upstairs and 1 down. All of the window had a greenish colored decorative shudders. George never thought green ever belonged on a house but somehow it worked with this one.

George looked at Clay confused but Clay didn't say anything. He got out of the car, opened George's door and told him to come with him. They went up the spotted brick path up along the side of the house, through a black metal gate and into the backyard. The backyard was home to a hot tub and an in-ground pool. In the furthest back corner of the yard was another structure. It was too big to be a shed. 

As they walked to it the light on the path turned on lighting the way. Clay went to the side of the structure and came back with a key. Inside was what looked to be a room. There weren't any posters on the grey colored walls, but he had shelves that were nailed in which gave home to numerous photos. On the far side of the room was a bed and a computer desk with a large set up. Directly in front George was another door, which Clay opened. Inside was a toilet and a shower. It was a full bathroom. 

"Stay here, George." 

George, having sobered up a bit from the adrenaline, asked, "What's here?"

Clay sighed. "Right. This is where I sleep. My parents and sisters live in the house. Now I'll be right back." He tried to sound calm but George could tell he was still tense from what happened back at the party. 

George didn't know what to do so he walked further into the room and started looking around. The computer set up was pretty intense. Right off the bat he could tell there was at least $2k worth of equipment, probably more. Above his bed, which was in a large platform bed with drawers at the bottom, were a couple shelves with photos. Immediately, George can see a photo of Clay with Nick and then another photo with a few other guys. Nick and the other guy, Luke, were there too. 

The door to the building opened, startling George.

"Relax, it's me." Clay said. He had clothes in his hands and handed them to George. "These are straight from the laundry room in the house." 

George didn't move. He looked down at the clothes and then back up at Clay. 

"What? Do you not like the shirt? I know it's going to be a little big on you, but it's the best I can-" George cut him off.

"No that's not it. Um. I'm grateful for this, but why?"

"Why what?" Clay's face contorted itself in confusion.

"Why did you bring me here to your home?"

Clay made an expression as if a light bulb went off in his head. "Oh! Um, well, I figure it would be bad for you to be alone in your apartment all drunk."

George looked away, "So you are babysitting me?"

"Yes, is that a bad thing?" Clay seemed annoyed.

George shrugged. "You should be at the party."

Clay quickly retorted, "No, I shouldn't because if I were I would've punched someone. Like that stupid ginger." The tension between the two seemed heavy, but out of place. "Look, I'm sorry for bringing you there. I knew how Nick's friends can be and I still brought you. That wasn't right of me." His voice trailed off as he looked in the mirror and fixed his hair as a way to distract himself.

George's thoughts were all over the place, conflicting with each other and the alcohol didn't help matters either. 

"Go shower. The hot water needs a couple minutes to kick in. Shampoo and body soap are in there. I'll come and bring you a toothbrush after I shower in the house."

"Okay," George responds. Clay walks into the bathroom and turns the shower on for him. When he goes to walk out the two look at each other, the taller one weakly smiling as he exits. 

After George showers he changes into the clothes Clay had given him. He gave him everything, a shirt, sweats, and underwear. When he stepped out of the bathroom there were a pair of slides at the door. Nearby on the table which housed a lamp was an unopened toothbrush package. 

"You can just leave your dirty clothes on the floor in the corner." Clay says from the other side of the room. George looked over and saw the damp and messy blonde-hair that sat on top of his head. He wished his eyes stopped there and didn't travel south to see a shirtless Clay in basketball shorts, but here he was becoming more familiar with his abs. 

"Are your parents going to be okay with this?" George asks trying to find something to be distracted by. 

"I don't see why they wouldn't be," he answers almost dismissively as he approaches George. "I pay rent. I can bring whomever I'd like here." He went into the bathroom to brush his teeth so George followed him to do the same. 

"So why do you live out here and not in the house? I'm confused."

Clay giggled finally realizing how weird it was. "Oh, well my grandfather had to move in with us so my sister had to move out of her room. I gave up mine for this. It was a win for me, to be honest."

"I see."

The two brush their teeth in silence, while George struggled not to look at Clay's abs in the mirror. It wouldn't be subtle whatsoever.

When they got to the bed Clay tapped George's shoulder to get his attention, "The cup of water on the end table is for you. I put some ibuprofen there for the headache." George stopped walking as it hit him. All of these things Clay has done for him, albeit small, were a big deal. He was really thinking about him. And not just here and now, but for most of the night.

Clay could've gone off with his friends and partied but he made sure George was with him the entire time. Everything Clay did, George was right there. He helped him walk up stairs, made sure he had water, saved him from those frat boys, and even helped him go to the bathroom as weird as that may sound. 

Bringing him here, to his home, just to make sure nothing bad happens to him in his sleep speaks volume enough.

"You alright?" Clay asks as he sits in bed looking at Clay. 

"Uh yeah. I'm just realizing how nice you've been to me tonight."

"Oh."

"Thank you. I, um, not sure I deserved it but thank you for going out of your way."

Clay smiled warming George's heart. "I didn't go out of my way. You've just been in my way." The two looked at each other, getting lost in each other's eyes. "And I'm glad you were."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all liked this. I really enjoyed making this chapter.
> 
> Honestly, still contemplating a new college AU dnf fic. It'd be different in scope than this and probably have a change in POV just so that it is a different structure than this. I'll see after I finish the rest of his fic.


	5. Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy with how this fanfic is progressing. Happy to see you guys/gals are liking this.
> 
> If any of the CC's want this fic removed I will take this down.

The following day George woke up in Clay's bed. The raging headache distracted him for a moment until he saw the half-naked boy next to him, arm resting above his head. 

Is it wrong to stare? Is it wrong to not want this moment to end? It is wrong to wish he could cuddle up against Clay and hear his heart beat through his chest? Is it wrong to think this way to begin with?

George sat up with his feet dangling off the bed and faced the grey wall in front of him. To his left was the end table with a half a cup of water and two small ibuprofen pills. George cursed Clay for being so thoughtful because it only made him fall harder. He stood up, slipping his feet into the slides that Clay gave him and went to the bathroom. He looked at his phone to see where he was on the maps app and saw he was a good 25 minute walk from his own apartment. 

It was in that moment he decided he was just going to leave. He was grateful for Clay, and wanted to thank him again, but as he stood in front of the mirror looking at himself in the other boy's clothes a distinct feeling of guilt started to eat away at him. He felt wrong. Invasive, even. 

He left. He didn't look back at Clay and he didn't second guess himself. He just slipped on his shoes and exited the outhouse. When he got to the front of the house he thought he was in the clear but then-

"Hello," a female voice called out. It was a friendly yet questionable tone. Clay's mother probably. He turned around and saw a woman he had recognized in the photos above Clay's wall. Her brunette hair delicately laying on her right shoulder. "You must be Clay's guest."

"Oh, uh." _Shit._ "Yeah. I don't mean to disturb you. I'm just going home."

The woman smiled and approached George. He could feel her eyes study him. There were a myriad of things she could be thinking and George had no way of knowing which way her thoughts were going to lead her.

"Nonsense. I've made breakfast, and it's still warm. You should eat after a night of drinking." 

Did he look that bad? Was it that obvious he was a hungover mess? 

George wanted to decline once again but he knew how rude it would be, so he relented and followed her into the home. It was clean. 

A girl, maybe a couple years younger than Clay, was sitting in the living room. Next to her was an older woman. Their features were similar so George assumed they were sisters. They saw George, looked at each other and smiled briefly as if there was in an inside joke George was not aware of. Out of habit of feeling uncomfortable, George fixed his hair and kept walking.

The kitchen was massive, probably the size of George's entire apartment. In the middle were 3 large plates with bacon, eggs, sausages and toast on top of a marble counter island. 

"Do take as much as you want. There will be plenty of Clay when he decides to wake up." 

George doesn't take as much as he wants. He takes a few strips of bacon, a couple pieces of sausage and some toast. He feels the eggs may not sit well so he doesn't want to risk it.

The two sisters walk into the kitchen whispering to themselves, the younger making quick glances at George, and open the door to the fridge. While George begins to eat his food, Clay's mother takes a seat across from him and flips open her laptop. Next to her is cart with multiple documents on them. She must be doing work, George thinks to himself.

"So how did you meet my son?"

George felt put on the spot. There was weird atmosphere in the room, especially with the sisters muttering to themselves and giggling. He could feel the leer of Clay's mother even though she wasn't even looking at him. 

"Oh um, I just happened to sit next to him at the library is all."

The woman looked at him and so did the older sister. He felt like he triggered something. 

"You must be the late night study partner then? You're the boy responsible for my son coming home so late?" George had no clue how to answer the mother's questions. She was smirking, one finger pressing down on her black oval glasses so she could see him over the rim. 

"So you're George," the younger sister asks as she sits at the head of the table with an enigmatic smile on her face. "Interesting."

_Wait. How is that interesting and how does she know my name? What is happening?_

"I guess so," George stumbles.

"Ah relax dear. Clay's sisters like to mess around with his friends, especially one that he freely talks about."

George felt uncomfortable but more at ease. This was like an initiation. The similar tone of feigned seriousness began to make sense. Clay would use this in this some of their initial conversations. The questions that pick and prod George's brain to see what he'll do, as if he's actually interesting, began to make sense. But why from his family? 

An older man walked into the kitchen with an empty glass and a newspaper in his hand. He looked over, saw George and continued to the sink. "So who's that?"

_Oh no, not another one._

The younger sister answered, "Clay's study partner, George."

The man examines him for a second and nods his head. "I see. Well at least someone was able to get him to take his studies seriously." 

George just ignored the statement and kept eating. The line of questioning got more normal as time progressed. The sisters asked about George's accent, the older one mentioning how cute it sounds. They asked him about where he lives in the UK, why he's in America, if he wants to stay here and what he was studying. That is when he learned that Clay and him were studying the same things. 

When he finished eating his food he had had looked at the window towards the outhouse. Clay had not woken up and didn't seem to be waking up anytime soon. So George's next step was to get out of the house and go home. 

But he was stopped.

"Where do you live?" Clay's mother asked. When George told her she got up and picked up her keys off a hook that was hanging off the side of the cupboard. "No need to walk. I'll take you."

George tried to decline, "Oh I don't want to be a burden. It's not that long of a walk."

Clay's mom smiled. "Don't worry, you are no such thing. I have to go to my office to deliver documents anyways."

He relented. 

The drive was quiet for most of the trip. An awkward kind of quiet, like how when someone wants to say something but the silence is so oppressive you just don't. Yeah, that.

But when they pulled up to his residence Clay's mom broke the silence. "I do apologize if we made you uncomfortable, especially my daughters. They like to butt into Clay's life and he wasn't there to stop them."

"It's okay. I get it. It must be odd for him to bring a stranger over for the night. Especially if the reason was to babysit."

Clay's mom smiled. "He's an enigma, Clay is. I've heard him talking to his sisters about you the last couple afternoons. He never talks about his friends." George tried to understand the magnitude of her words, but there was a feeling that something was missing. "Anyways, once he mentioned you his sisters are like shark in the water. I'm sure they'll give him grief when he wakes up and he'll apologize to you later."

He didn't know why she would assume that, but it felt right. 

"Anyways, if you need anything please do not hesitate to ask. I can tell you don't like accepting help, but as a lawyer I've learned that sometimes it's better to take whatever is offered."

"Thanks." It was inadequate response but it was all he could muster. He wasn't sure why Clay's mom was saying this but he was genuinely grateful for the sheer kindness Clay and his mom had shown him. 

It was only fitting for all of that good feeling to go out the window when George has to deal with his landlord. There were two problems instantly. His door was unlocked and there was a note on the counter that he had not placed there. George fumed as he read it.

_Dear Mr. Davidson,_

_I regret to inform you that I have been forced to warn you one final time. Yesterday evening there was a torrent of noise coming from your apartment. I came to complain to you about it today, but when I opened your door I was flabbergasted to see the water faucet had been on in the kitchen. Due to this obscene waste of water I'm going to have to increase your rent and ask that you pay me by Wednesday at 12PM. If you do not I will be forced to remove you and your belongings from the premises with the help of the local authorities._

_I wish I did not have to do, but you have left me no choice._

_Sincerely_ ,

_Neville Loney._

George slammed the paper on the table and walked back down the stairs where he knocked harshly on the door. Mr. Loney answered it and had a smug smile on his face.

"Well hello, Mr. Davidson. What can I do for you?"

"You left my door unlocked. You violated my privacy, the privacy that I am paying for, mind you, and then you proceeded to leave my door unlocked after leaving." George was desperately trying to calm himself. He fist was so tightly closed that his knuckles lost all color in them.

"I do apologize for that, but I do own this building. And-" George cut him off.

"And nothing. The contract we signed gives you no right to barge into my apartment unless there is an emergency." 

The man's face contorted, but the smugness was still there. He took his glasses off and rubbed the lenses on his mustard colored knitted shirt. It looks like something a grandma would make. A catastrophe in fashion sense.

"As I told you in the letter there was a lot of noise coming from your apartment. Like someone was running. I thought it was alarming."

George shook his head. "Bullshit. I wasn't home at all last night. I want to be clear because I've had it. I will pay your stupid rent. You will leave me alone until I am out of here next week. If you have a problem, call the police. I'll happily tell them about you harassing me. Now I'm going to go upstairs and take a nice hot shower. I have exams to worry about, not annoying landlords."

George didn't give the man time to respond back. He walked back up the stairs and slammed the door. The first thing he knew he had to do was store the papers his landlord have left him. They are evidence. He brings the notes to his room and places it in his backpack. Afterwards he grabs clothes out of his drawer and goes to take a long shower.

While in the bathroom he remembers he is still wearing Clay's clothes. Flashes from the previous night and this morning take over his thoughts. He remembers being in the bathroom with Clay, feel his body pressed up against him. He remembers looking down and seeing Clay's arms around him as they braced themselves. Once the picture of Clay standing next to his bed shirtless entered his mind, he let it take over. The guilt he was feeling before was pushed aside for a few minutes. He was consumed by something else.

~~~~~~

Later that evening George went to the library. He was excited and nervous to see Clay. The library was incredibly packed, probably because it was the day before finals began. He went over to his normal spot when he saw someone sitting in the work station he had been at. Clay wasn't there in his normal spot either. 

George was filled with disappointment. 

_Probably should've traded phone numbers with him._

He went up to the top floor, hoping there was an open station for him to go to. As he was walking he heard someone call out for him. He looked over and saw Clay sitting in the middle seat. The seat to his left had a back pack on the chair and the other one had yellow tape across it because it was crack in several places. 

Someone must've had a bad time here.

Clay nods to his left and removes the backpack that is on it. He had been saving the spot for George. While George was placing his stuff on the table Clay opened his bag and took a plastic bag out. 

"You left your clothes on my floor."

George's face turned red. 

"Don't worry, I washed it. I didn't feel like carrying a bag of clothes that smelled like alcohol." _Oh this was embarrassing._ He looked into the bag and saw his briefs and then looked Clay who was biting his laughter. "Yeah, don't do that to me again." 

George just put the clothes in his bag and sat down without saying anything. When he calmed his nerves he looked over at Clay as he stretched. George remembered what he did in the bathroom of his apartment and immediately felt bad, but excited at the same time. He looked away and went to focus on his work in front of him. He had an exam tomorrow morning and he needed to make sure he was ready for it.

In the middle of studying Clay and George heard a disturbance down the room. Two people were starting to argue. It didn't get better when some people were yelling at them to shut up. It just exacerbated the situation. The two boys thought this was the perfect time to take a break since they won't be able to study.

"Um, I want to thank you for yesterday," George started to say. "You know for taking me to the party, saving my ass, then taking care of me, and giving me your clothes." George chuckled anxiously.

Clay was smirking. "You forgot the most important thing; I helped you pee."

George violently shook his head. "We don't talk about that, okay? That's just embarrassing."

Clay laughed. "Oh but you were in rare form. I felt like I got to see the real George."

"No, no you most certainly did not." George felt his face get all flush from being teased. It didn't help that Clay was smirking.

Clay rested his arm on George's shoulder and spoke in a hushed tone, "Do you even remember what you said to me in the bathroom?" George did not. "You told me that you didn't think you could aim and you gave me a seductive smile."

George's face reddened even further to the Clay's satisfaction as he unlocked that memory that was hidden away by the alcohol. He got nervous.

"Tell me I didn't say anything else stupid last night."

Clay seemed to think seriously for once. He looked longingly at George as he remembered what George said last night when they were in bed about how he didn't deserve to be taken care of. 

He caught himself frowning. "You did say that a flight of 13 stairs was actually 30, but other than that nothing. That was the only sus thing you said."

George seemed relieve but even he caught Clay's attitude change as he pondered the question. He doubted the boy was being honest, but why would he lie? He really hoped Clay would get off of him because of how intoxicating his scent was. It turned on all of his senses making him hyperaware of his domineering presence. 

He couldn't tell if Clay knew he was frustrated. 

"You are a whore. You slept with Professor Collins!" They hard a girl yell.

A hum of "oh's" filtered through the floor. Security had finally made there way to the floor and were walking towards the conflict.

"Damn. She really came with the tea," Clay said as he stands up and watches the arguing. It soon descended into madness as one girl threw her iced coffee at the other girl's boyfriend. George had no clue there was a guy involved, but the hands started flying. Security ran towards them and attempted to clear the fight. 

Then a message was delivered by the security ordering everyone off the floor due to how so many people fed the conflict by screaming and clapping. It was punishment.

Clay seemed annoyed. "Nothing like punishing the many for the acts of a few morons. Alright well lets go eat. We'll come back afterwards, yeah?" 

George nodded.

As George went to put stuff away in his back pack he accidentally dropped it causing the letters from his landlord to spill out onto the floor. The letters fell and hit Clay's foot so he picked them up and curiously began to read them. 

"What the hell is this?" Clay asked.

After a heavy sigh, George answered. "That's my wonderful landlord."

Clay's eyes widened as he read the letters. He rolled his eyes, chuckled and shook his head. "Fuck this dude. How the hell are you managing him?"

"I yelled at him today."

Clay laughed. "You yelled? Oh come one. What did you really do?"

George pretended to be offended, "I did yell! So excuse me, Clay."

He seemed surprised. "I can't imagine you yelling. I don't think I ever want to see you yell." George agreed. He hated yelling, saw it as pointless and self-defeating. He also hated confrontation.

Meanwhile something was bothering George about last night and he needed to address it on the walk to get food.

"Can I ask you something?" 

"Always," Clay responded nonchalantly.

"Have you spoken to your friend Nick since last night?"

Clay looked George with a blank face. "Not really, no."

That pang of guilt was unnecessary. He still believes that if he hadn't been there yesterday that there wouldn't have been an issue between Clay and his best friend. 

"Why do you ask, George? Don't say it's nothing either. You don't just randomly ask me things like that." Clay gave no hint at his emotions, but he seemed bothered.

"Well," he took a deep breath. "I think it's unfair to hold what happened against him. He's your best friend, right?"

Clay's steps slowed. "Yeah, but I had asked him to do me a favor and-"

George shook his head. "And nothing. It wouldn't have happened if I wasn't there. He also tried to stay with me but those frat boys just came and grabbed him. There was nothing he could do." George wanted to fill Clay in on the period of time he had missed, a crucial period of time. He hoped it would serve as a dual purpose and clear up the guilt he was having. 

Clay looked back and forth at George and the ground below. George watch as the conflict played out on is face, mostly his eyes. "Okay."

The smaller boy stopped walking causing Clay to turn around raise his bros as to say, "What?"

"That's it? Okay? Just okay?"

"Yeah. What else do you want me to say?"

George sighed. "That you'll talk to him and accept his apology. Every good friend deserve a second chance. Even a third."

Clay can see how much this meant to George. He wanted to challenge him, still angry about Nick and lingering words still bothering him, but he decided to let it go. "I will. I promise."

George nodded, "Okay then. I'm sorry."

Clay chuckled, "For what? What are you sorry for now?"

The other boy stammered. "Uh, I don't know actually." They both laughed with Clay throwing his arm around the smaller boy. 

"So when do I get my clothes back?" 

"Uh, you can come to my place and get em."

Clay's eyes widened, "Ooo, can I sleep over?" he asked in a flirtatious way.

Shaking his head, George replied, "Bed is too small."

The dirty-blonde haired boy was not to be deterred. "That's fine. We can cuddle." They both laughed out loud as they entered the campus center. "I'll let you be the little spoon."

"I hate you," George replied ignoring his comment and the image it put in his head.

"You wish you did."

~~~~~

It was 2AM and they had walked to George's apartment. George told Clay to wait outside so his landlord doesn't freak out when he hears two sets of steps walking up the stairs. He goes to his bathroom and grabs the dirty clothes that are sitting on the floor and tosses them in a plastic bag. He then goes back downstairs and outside and hands them to Clay.

"Thanks again for this." 

After Clay put the bag in his backpack he paused. "So uh, why don't you just stay at my place till next week?"

George shook his head. "What?"

"Well," he continued his thought, "I was just thinking that you shouldn't have to deal with this asshole. You don't need to worry about him while worrying about exams. It's fucked up, George." George didn't realize but there was a hint of desperation in Clay's voice that he hoped the other boy wouldn't notice. 

"You have a point, but I don't know. I don't want to burden you."

Clay shook his head. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

He seemed annoyed. "You always make yourself out to be unworthy or a burden when you aren't. You did it when we were getting dinner. You want me to forgive Nick, which I will don't worry, because you blame yourself for what happened. That's so unfair to yourself and you should see that. And then-" _Oh god there's more._ "Then my mom told me about this morning. How you seemed anxious and on edge. At first she thought you didn't want to be there, but then she realized that you believed you didn't deserve to be there. Why?"

It was a lot. Clay was striking blows at everything he's felt about their interactions one by one. He's been paying attention closely and putting serious thought into it. The steely look he was giving was similar to how he was last night when he talked with Nick. But it lacked the ominous anger.

"I don't know." 

Clay took a step closer to George. "Bullshit, George."

George looked down the street past Clay. "I moved here last August with nothing. Just a dream to live in America, but-" he stepped away. "But it hasn't worked out. I can't take a step forward without tripping over myself. I don't have friends, well except you I guess." There were things left unsaid. So many questions he was going to blurt out but he stopped himself when he felt the pressure well up in his throat. 

"Georgie," Clay started as he closed the gap again between them. He pulled his arm out of his interlocked position. "Well then I guess I'm sorry we didn't meet sooner." 

He pulled the shorter boy to gauge his interest, when he didn't resist he hugged him. He didn't know why he hugged George and George didn't know why he didn't resist, but for both of them it felt right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked this chapter. It was one of my favorite ones to write. There are just a few more chapters left. I think the next chapter will be uploaded on Sunday. I'm aiming for Sunday at least. The draft is done, it's just when I decide to edit it. I actually think the last chapter will be up by Valentine's day lmfao.


	6. Confidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of the CC's want this removed I will take this story down.

After finishing his first final George felt a little relief come off his shoulders. He had 4 others finals, one of which really isn't a final. Just a small paper which should be pretty easy. The other 2 are in classes he is already acing, then there is the accounting. He hasn't leaned much on Clay's knowledge outside of that one time when he just offered his help. 

George started to think about going back the UK. He missed his family and friends. He missed the atmosphere believe it or not. One of things you learn when you go away for school is that you took everything about home for granted. The home cooked meals, the fact that someone was always there for you even if they annoyed you, the corner store where you knew the employees behind the counter, and even just the town or city your from itself. The small things tend to stand out the most.

Even with that said the first thing George will do is sleep for a very long time in his bed. And he won't have to wake up to a note under his door because he walked to the bathroom.

As he is walking in the hallways of the science building he runs into Clara. _Shit_. He forgot about promising to help her study. She finally notices him and puts on a broad smile. With some bounce in her steps she approaches George and immediately begins to flirt. "Hey cutie."

George is not amused. "Yes, Clara."

She traces her finger up his forearm and to his almost non-existent bicep. "So when do you want to get together tonight to help me study?" He wonders how far she'd go. He almost felt bad for her that she would stoop to this level.

"Don't you have a boyfriend?" She doesn't stop. She gets closer to George and places her hand on his face.

"He doesn't have to know. You help me study and-" she makes a seductive face before placing her finger on George's lips, "I'll help you with other, more extracurricular things."

George laughs and carefully removes her hand from his face. "I'm sorry. I'm not going to help you." Her mood instantly changes. She pouts and rolls her eyes with her arms crossed.

"Why not? You told me you would help me?"

"Well I don't want to. I remember how shit you treated me last semester and I think maybe you should earn your grade for once." George felt a sudden wave of confidence he normally wouldn't have.

She shook her head. "You really are a fucking loser." _Yes, I know._

"You're the one who was just touching me. I may be a loser but at least I haven't stoop down to your level. Now I have to go study. I suggest you give a try, cheers." He walked by her not giving her a chance to respond but he could hear her groan and curse him out. He smiled as he exited the hallway and headed up the stairs.

Outside he walked around the concourse. There were several benches filled with students enjoying the calm and warm day studying. Across the way he saw Clay talking with Nick and Luke. They seemed be laughing and having a good time which meant Clay did make up with Nick.

When George approached them, Nick's smile seemed to escape his face while Clay gave him a light hug. It was unexpected but George wasn't about to complain. After the previous night of being held in his arms he determined that he liked it very much.

When they separated Nick approached George with his hands in his pockets. "Hey, man. I just want to apologize for what happened on Saturday. I had no clue my frat brothers were going to do that to you."

George shrugged, "It's whatever. I'm not going to waste time worrying about what could've happened. It's not your fault anyways."

"It's not yours either," Clay quickly added.

"I know."

"Anyways. George and I are going to get going. You two do well on your psych final."

George had no clue he was going anywhere with Clay. This was just Clay being Clay and taking initiative. They walked along the concourse talking about their first exams, both saying they think they aced it. As they walk they agree to get lunch and then go to George's to eat and just relax. George didn't want to be afraid to go to his apartment because of what happened the previous day with Mr. Loney. He felt very uncomfortable sleeping last night or trying to sleep anyways. 

Plus, having Clay around helps him feel comfortable.

When they get upstairs George ponders what Clay is thinking when he looks inside. It's as barebones as it gets simply because George doesn't want to move much back home. He didn't bring much from the UK and he didn't buy much here to throw away or bring back to the UK. There is a cheap futon in the living area with a coffee table that came with the apartment. There is a TV that is hanging from the wall that came with the apartment. There is no other furniture accept for the small end table by the door, next to the futon. To the right is a small hallway that leads to a bathroom and a small bedroom. None of which is decorated with personal items. There's a pc and a desk, the latter of which had to be brought, and the bed. A hamper sat in the corner filled with clothes. Clay look at George.

"Don't judge me. I don't have a laundry room in my house." 

Clay put up his hands, "Someone's defensive."

"Oh fuck you."

The taller boy raises his brow, "When?"

George just shakes his head and shoves him. Well he attempts to and fails. 

The bathroom was boring, painted all white, but like a cheap white. There are always homes that have a coat of white paint and it can look sophisticated. But sometimes white just looks ugly and depressing. There was a plastic 3-drawer storage container next to the shower, something George got from Walmart when he got the futon. On top of it was a bottle of shampoo and body soap.

Then there was the kitchen which had a small table in it. Nothing fancy. Clay looked through the cabinets and saw only 1 bowl and 1 cup. Although on top of the fridge there were a stack of paper plates. On the stove there was two pots and one pan. Clay didn't see any other pots or pans. The cabinets themselves were pretty empty, there were a couple packs of ramen, a jar of sauce, a nearly empty box of cereal and a jar of peanut butter. The fridge just had filtered water.

"I feel like you are judging me," George said as Clay went through his apartment.

"What the fuck do you eat?"

"Ramen and whatever the school offers. I put $300 into my school card."

Clay shook his head, "Okay. I just don't know what to say. Maybe this is why you put yourself down."

George put his finger up and waved it, "That was uncalled for."

Clay jokingly rolled his eyes and walked over to George with his arms out. He was just mocking George and George was going to let him. "Forgive me," he says in a baby voice. When Clay goes to wrap his arms around George the other by puts his hand on his chest and gives him resistance.

"I can't be manipulated by your hugs."

Clay scoffed, "And here I thought you liked them." He retracted his arms and crossed them. The two looked at each other pretending to be serious but once George started to crack they both bellowed into laughter.

The two of them sit down on the futon and decide to watch TV. Except there is no cable. Clay looks at George as if he has two heads. George grabs the remote from Clay and presses the Netflix button. "I'm not that pathetic, Clay." He tried to sound offended.

"I'm sorry, Georgie," Clay says tenderly. 

Clay doesn't know what to watch so he puts on Grey's Anatomy. 

George yawns as the lack of sleep catches up to him now that he is sitting down and relaxing. Clay look at him and throws his right arm up on the back of the futon behind George's head. "Tired?"

George nods before yawning again. "A lil."

Clay giggles, "You can sleep. Don't stay up on my accord."

The dark haired boy looked at his friend. He took his friend's words and actions as an invitation and took it. He moved over closer to Clay and when he didn't move he rested his head on his shoulder. What George didn't see was the smile that blossomed on Clay's face. And when George finally fell asleep, Clay dropped his arm onto George's shoulder and tugged him closer before he too fell asleep.

~~~~~~

When Clay wakes up a few hours later he finds his head resting on top of George's. So much so that he could smell the dove shampoo that he saw in the bathroom in his hair. He wondered if George was awake so he whispered for him. When he didn't get a response he assumed he was still asleep. 

The iron framed clock hanging in the kitchen said that it was 6PM, which was a bit later than he expected. He wanted to get to the library soon and he knew George did as well. So he gave George a light shake, waking him up.

"Rise and shine, beautiful!" 

George was not feeling beautiful or amused. He yawned and asked Clay what time it was. Clay told him and asked if he wanted dinner. "Hmm, I could go for dinner. You want Ramen," he joked in a monotone voice.

"Absolutely not. I'm going to order pizza, you want?"

"Sure."

Clay orders a full pizza with half of it being topped with pineapples as per George's request. As he takes a bite into pineapple slice he catches the other boy's glance.

"Do you not like pineapples on pizza?"

Clay shakes his head. "Not particularly, no. Seems gross." George then pushes his plate with his half eaten slice on it towards Clay who then protests. 

"Just try it."

Clay picks up the slice and studies it. To him it looks like a crime against humanity, but he'll give it a taste because George asked him to. 

"What do you think?"

He isn't repulsed by the taste. The bite and sweetness from a pineapple seems to oddly compliment the pizza itself. "I can't shake how weird this combo is."

"But you liked it, right?"

He shrugged. "It's okay. I still prefer a Margherita."

"Fair enough," George replied.

After they are done eating and they wash their hands. They could hear someone walking up the stairs. George groans knowing exactly who it is. "We must've walked too hard," he cracks. He opens the door before Mr. Loney knocks.

"Can I help you?" George asks.

Mr. Loney adjusts his glasses. "Yes, can you please stop being so noisy."

"How are we being noisy?" George asked in a tired and annoyed tone.

"You are stomping and constantly walking around. It's obnoxious."

Clay interjected, "Oh come on. I don't know if you are aware, but he's allowed to walk around in his apartment that he pays rent for. Put some ear plugs in if you don't like it."

The landlord scowled. "Don't be rude. I've treated Mr. Davidson with the utmost respect, but I've absolutely had it."

"You've harassed him, is what you've done. You've blamed him for noise that he didn't even make because he wasn't even here, have you not?" Mr. Loney did not respond but he seemed agitated as he fiddled with his fingers. "By the way, you are stepping into the apartment when you were not welcomed in, I suggest taking a step back."

Mr. Loney looks down and takes a step back but he groans loudly. "Now you listen here, you brat. I will not allow you two little shits disrupt my evening anymore. Keep quiet or-"

Clay took a couple steps forward as George watched completely turned on by Clay coming to his defense. "Or what? You'll call the cops. Go ahead. Do it."

Mr. Loney pulls his phone out of his pocket and then yells, "Don't think I won't. Keep things quiet here."

Clay shook his head. "No we won't."

Mr. Loney shook his phone in the air, "You will shut up. I can make things very unfortunate for your friend here."

Clay took that as a challenge. He pulled out his phone and dialed 911. "Hello, we are being harassed by the downstairs neighbor." George's eyes exploded. He didn't think he would call the cops and neither did Mr. Loney who begged for him to stop. "Yes, ma'am. We were just minding our business and he decided to come up and threaten to make things very unfortunate for my friend. He also threatened to call the cops multiple times."

"You stupid child! All I was asking were for you two to be quiet. How dare you call the police on me!? I will kick him out."

Clay tilted his head. "Oh another threat. Please save them for when the police come." There was a cockiness in Clay's voice that George found slightly unsettling but incredibly hot at the same time.

Mr. Loney goes downstairs leaving Clay and George to wait for the police. When the police finally arrive they follow Clay up the stairs and listen to their story. He tells them everything, even shows them the letters that the landlord had left. "I don't live here but I don't feel comfortable leaving my friend here with someone so hostile who has violated his privacy before."

The officer nodded and then went downstairs to hear what Mr. Loney had to say. Immediately they could hear Mr. Loney raising his voice.

"My mom says that if you are ever in a dispute with someone and cops get involved, you must be the calm one. Cops will side you with more often."

"Has she said anything about being the one who passes out?"

They chuckle. 

After a few minutes the cops come back upstairs with Mr. Loney behind them. The female cop agrees that the situation has gotten out of hand. They admonished Mr. Loney for "blatant disrespect of the residence's rights" and for his threats of calling the police. "This kid is only going to be here for a few more days. From what they tell me he is mostly here to sleep and shower while he spends most of his time at campus. You did not deny that. There will not be any more conflicts nor will there be any threats. So let's get along and go on with our days, yeah?"

George and Clay nod, satisfied with the end result. Mr. Loney was less than enthused but he accepted what the cops said. 

When that was all cleared up the two boys decided to go to the library to study. Because they are only arriving at the library at 7:30, they are caught in the peak hours as kids have already had dinner. They weren't able to sit in their normal spot but they did find two workstations together. George went through his backpack and realized he forgot to charge his airpods. He threw his head back and sighed, annoyed with himself. He needs that music to help his brain focus. Clay, sitting next to him realizes his problem so he takes the right airpod and hands it to George.

"It's fine," George says declining.

"Just shut up for once and accept it."

He huffs and takes the airpod. 

This was a very important moment for both Clay and George. Sharing your music taste with someone for the first time can make or break your friendship. Well not really, but sometimes it feels like that. George opens up his laptop and begins to study as the music starts playing. 

The first songs that play are from 3OH!3, Melanie Martinez and Ashnikko. George looks at him as Asnikko plays. 

"What?" Clay mouths.

"The music."

Clay makes a discernable face. "Bad?"

George smiles after making him feel bad. "Nah, it's good."

Clay smiles back. 

~~~~~~

After a decently long night at the Science Library both boys decide to call it quits and head home. But Clay doesn't want George to go back to his important. 

"Why don't you stay at my place?"

George thought he was joking so he started to laugh, but when he turned and saw the consternation on Clay's face he stopped. "You're serious?" Clay nodded. "Oh."

"It's up to you. I'm just leaving another option open to you. You know, whatever feels more comfortable for you." His voice was uneven. 

_Say no._ "You sure you won't mind?" Clay shoots him a look. "Right. Uh. Sure."

_That was, like, the opposite of saying no._

And so they walked together in silence and in sync to Clay's house. George's was dealing with an internal debate about his feelings for Clay which have been bubbling to the surface. _No, I'm overreacting. He's not just this hot guy I know. He's my friend. That's all he is. You controlled yourself last night and today when you slept on his shoulder. There's a bond there that is building and it's so much greater than a pathetic crush._

"Why are you so quiet, Georgie?" 

_But he really needs to stop calling me that._

"I'm just tired."

Clay didn't believe him. "I swear you better not be thinking that I'm being too nice to you again."

George nervously laughed. "Well you are, but no I'm not."

Clay rolls his eyes. "You are too much sometimes."

After changing into clothes that Clay gave him, George heads out but Clay isn't there. Figuring he just went to get a drink or something George inspects the room. On the large desk up against the wall he notices a photo of Clay in a jersey. Based on what he remembers from that day earlier in the year it looks like a jersey for American Football. 

Clay never mentioned anything about playing a sport, but he isn't surprised based on how fit he is. Above the desk is a small window with a model plane and a small handmade rocket on the windowsill. George looks at the rocket and notices a small burn mark at the bottom of it suggesting that it had a fuse. 

On the other side of the room above the bed George notices something that wasn't there before. It was an empty picture frame. 

George hears the handle to the door turn and then the creak of the door as it opens. Clay is holding two bottles of water, one for him and one for George. "Thanks," he says as he opens it and takes a sip. "Why do you have an empty picture frame up there?" 

"Oh. Well this is awkward," he nervously laughs. "So my shelves, if you haven't noticed, have pictures of those that I care about. And well, um, shit. I guess it can't hurt to be forward, but I was hoping to get a photo with or of you before you went back to the UK." His cheeks began to blush.

George was hit with a sudden burst emotion. He really felt like crying, but he held his own. He was not crying like he did last night.

"Wow, okay." His voice cracked. "That's one way to surprise me." 

"Yeah, sorry. I was going to ask you before you left."

"Okay."

"Please stop saying okay, you are making me anxious," Clay said nervously chuckling.

"Oh you're anxious?! I'm this close to falling my knees and crying like a baby. I don't wanna hear it!" 

Clay wheezed. "Alright, don't cry. You don't need to take the picture if you don't want-"

"Shut up. Of course I want to, but you gotta be in it. Oh and you need to send it to me." George was supplanting his anxiety with joy. This was a real friendship, something he's been yearning for this past year. 

George doesn't care that he is in Clay's clothes when Clay takes the photo of them, heads touching slightly as they cocked them. He could tell that this was going to be a picture he would cherish for a long time.

"There's something else, and I'm not sure if I should ask you this before broaching it with my parents, but-" George got nervous. "I was thinking we could share this room next year. I know it's a bit much, but there's more than enough space here. I can throw this bed away and get two twins if you don't want to share one bed with me. I don't care."

_What. The. Fuck. Clay. Like, yes but this is one heckuva way to spring this on me._

George battled with the positives and negatives of it. The positives are pretty obvious; don't have to worry about looking for an apartment, a likeable roommate, homemade food, and probably cheaper rent. The negatives, well, are also obvious. Would Clay still want to room with him if he knew he were gay? It was a dilemma even though he got the feeling that Clay wouldn't mind. 

"Alright, wow. Again. Let me think about it. Talk to your parents and let me know what they say. I want to know that before I make any decision."

"Sounds good to me," Clay said in relief.

Clay took off his shirt and got into bed, George sliding in next to him on the other half. He noticed something this time that he didn't notice when he last slept in this bed, because he was drunk. Clay's smell enveloped the entire bed from the sheets, to the pillows and the comforter. 

_Yeah, I'm going to have to tell him soon._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed this chapter. Next chapter should be up on Thursday. It's my favorite chapter that I have written yet so I'm excited to get it out to you all.
> 
> Please feel free to leave comments. I do appreciate them greatly.
> 
> Also, if you'd like to read other dnf fics I've written please feel free.
> 
> The Shadows of History: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28521099/chapters/69888606  
> The Eternal Summer's Clouds(almost finished): https://archiveofourown.org/works/28178529/chapters/69048444


	7. Clay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is almost completely about Clay and his point of view. I enjoyed writing this chapter the most if I have to be honest. 
> 
> If any of the CCs wish for me to take this fic down I will do so.

When George wakes up he realizes that Clay was not in bed next to him. After rubbing the sleep off of him and going to the bathroom he decides to walk to the house where he assumes Clay is. Inside the kitchen, Clay is standing over his mom as she reads some pieces of paper. That's when George realizes that those are his papers. Those are the papers that Mr. Loney had given him.

"Oh hello, George. Food is on the counter there. Clay tells me you are having trouble with your landlord." George looks at Clay sternly who mouths an apology for kind of violating his privacy. 

"Um, yes. He's been threatening me with rent increases and harassing me with those letters."

She hummed as she read through them. "Quite unfortunate. Well I'll just have to swing over and make sure he knows that he's violating multiple laws. I'm sure he'll leave you alone when I tell him I'm friends with the mayor."

George was scared. In a good way. She was very matter-of-fact with her threat, but incredibly genuine. "Clay will get mad at me for saying this but I have a bad habit I guess. I appreciate the offer, but you don't have to do anything for me."

"George!" Clay exclaimed.

His mom laughed. "Oh sweetie, I know I don't have to, but I will anyways. You know, I always thought Clay would ask for my lawyer skills to help him if he got arrested or something." 

"Ma! What?!" 

She laughed more before speaking in a softer tone. "But he's asking me to do him this favor for a friend. Who am I to say no? I'm not a perfect mom, but I refuse to be a bad one."

George felt warm and fuzzy inside. "Okay, I appreciate it then. Just remind me never to cross you." 

All three of them laughed in unison.

The two boys get into the car with Clay's mom and take the drive to George's apartment. They don't get out of the car as Clay's mom goes to the front door. George can't help but feel nervous and happy at the same time. But to be honest he just wanted to get out of that apartment and never have to deal with Mr. Loney again. He wants to focus on studying for these exams from here on out and as he looks at Clay, who is distracted by two squirrels fighting over a small nut, he knows that staying with him is the only way to do that. He thinks now would be the perfect time to tell Clay that he is gay, but before he can open his mouth Clay beat him to the punch.

"I hope you aren't mad at me." 

"Why would I be?"

He shifted in his seat to look back at George through the side mirror. "Because I went behind your back to help you. In hindsight I should've told you I was going to get my mom to help you. I just knew you'd decline it."

George nodded, "It's fine, Clay. I'm here for a few more days. It really can't get much worse. If he tries to kick me out, it's not like I don't have anyone to fall on." He looked outside at the blooming hybrid tulips. His eyes then interlock with Clay's. He waits a second before continuing and then looks back out to the flowers and smiles, "I have you."

"And I have you too." Clay wanted to say that back to him. He desperately tried to open his mouth to say those words but he couldn't. It would've been too much. Too much for him to say and feel when he is leaving in just a few days. 

To be honest Clay has been battling more thoughts than he would like to admit. He can put on a smile, force a laugh, and start a conversation all in hopes to distract himself. In reality, he's running out of ways to ignore the walls that are closing in. Inviting George to a party, taking care of him when he got drunk, defending him against his landlord and then having him over last night. They were all meant to push his feelings to the side, but what it really did was give him a taste of what he really wanted. His brain worked against him by fooling him into doing things that he thought would help.

Ever since the moment in the bathroom when George's body was pressed up against his, that moment where he felt an electricity like he's never felt before, he's wanted to feel George again. He wants to feel George's warm body pressed up against him, under him. He wants to explore the lust he feels for a boy he didn't even know a week ago.

But that wasn't true. 

Not really anyways.

He had seen George many times on campus, they even shared a class together. He wasn't sure George even knew that because he never brought it up. He'd see the smaller boy walking by himself but he always had airpods in. He'd see him eat by himself many times and feel bad, but, again, he always had his airpods in. Earlier this year he remembers George wearing a light blue long sleeved shirt sitting in the food court eating while nearly everyone else was screaming about the football game that was on. 

The pity he felt, he soon learned was a crush. He wanted to talk to George but made excuses not to. 

Flash forward to just last week when George sat down near him in the food court. Again he had his airpods in so there was not much he could do to get his attention. But he had Clays attention. He didn't quite know then but he knew it when he first saw him at the library that night. He was in shock. He was wearing this light grey shirt and he had this dorky smile on his face. He was anxious and Clay found that cute. That moment was the first time heard George speak. His accent was tender. It melted Clay and weakened any sensibilities he may have had. He thought it was funny how awkward George seemed when he stood there for a second too long like he wanted to say something more but realized the conversation was done. He watched the boy through his computer screen sit down and place his head in his hands and shake his head in embarrassment. Clay had to stifle a laugh, but he knew he couldn't hide the smile he had sketched on his face. 

For a while that first night he found it hard to study. He kept being distracted by thinking of the other boy, his eyes finding him in the reflection of his laptop. Normally he would've left the library already; studying wasn't something he did a lot. He rarely felt like he needed to study for long hours. After a few hours he needed to go to the bathroom and oddly enough he saw a way to finally get this boy to take his airpods out of his ear. He didn't have to ask him to watch his stuff, he never asked anyone to do so. It's library etiquette. 

But he did. He approached his workstation and got to examine his face again. The brown eyes, strong jaw and chin that had a cute amount of stubble on it. The eyes were easy to look at it. Maybe too easy.

He couldn't believe that the boy would stay there until 1:30 in the morning. As Clay was reading the powerpoint presentation for one of his class he could see in the black bezel of his laptop that George had turned around. He couldn't tell if he was looking at him, but he felt like he was. Soon after that George left but their eyes met once again. It was involuntary but Clay felt a smile form on his face. He proceeded to watch the boy walk away, struggling to keep his eyes from trailing downwards. 

He went to bed that night hoping to see the boy with the dorky smile once again. 

And he did. 

The next day George came to the library and walked by him with the airpods in his ear. Suddenly Clay had heard what he believed to be Don't Stop Me Now by Queen coming from the airpods as if George was trying to blow out his ear drums. 

After some time passed Clay went to go get food, curious how the other boy would react he decided to place his hand on his shoulder. He could see the nervousness in his eyes not to mention that he closed his fist exposing the white of his knuckles. It was quite funny to Clay. Adorable even. 

But it wasn't until later that night, after a long time of being in the library, that he finally got to see George's real smile. They shared some pleasantries about George being tired and potentially needing a cup of coffee. That was when Clay decided he'd get him coffee the next time they met. With that said as they spoke he saw George's guard slip just slightly. He made a small quip about not getting caramel and his smile radiated the room. There was something about looking at his smile, those soft pink lips that made him feel ethereal.

The next day brought a new dynamic. The boy sat next to him once again, 3 nights in a row. He knew that wasn't by chance. He had watched him walk by a couple of empty workstations that he could've sat at but he decided to come to the one next to Clay. It had to mean something. What happened next was complete chance. A girl for some group that was searching for new members came by and assumed they were friends. That was Clay's chance to play a game and see what reactions he can get out of the timid boy.

He teased him, saying key words and phrases, referencing friendship and calling him a study partner. He glanced over at him each time watching George's face contort in anxiety but also wonderment, like he was questioning every word and action Clay had said or done. George didn't turn away from him. His eyes became trained on him like he was begging for Clay to say something, so he did. He introduced himself to this pretty boy. "Uh, I'm George," he heard as the boy took his hand in his. It was soft, slightly tough near the palm from his constant rubbing of it. He saw George squirm a little in his seat. 

But it was when he went to get the boy a cup of coffee that things changed for him. See the previous evening when he came to campus to go study he saw George. He wasn't alone. George was with a girl, an attractive girl. Their arms were interlocked, and for a moment Clay had felt a sense of dread. He found himself interested in a guy who was into girls and maybe in a relationship. Or that is what he thought until doubt seeped into his mind as George never mentioned her as time passed. However, when he was going to get George a cup of coffee he saw that same girl. She was behind him in line to get coffee herself. She was talking to her friend about how this boy was going to help her study. Clay heard the other girl ask if she was going to give him a good time to which he heard the two giggle.

"George will never know what hit him." 

They laughed again. 

Clay felt like shit. He was really crushing on a straight guy. He started questioning his interactions with George. Everything became foggy. He thought for a moment that they were flirting, a very innocent kind of flirting. But now that was all in doubt. So why was George uncomfortable with him? Why did he seem on edge? He couldn't answer those questions now. 

When he went back up to study he convinced his brain to shut off the negativity and just power through it. Smile, laugh, small talk. Easy shit. He does it all of the time with Nick's friends. 

George was asleep. And instantly a warm and fuzzy feeling rushed back to his chest.

He was conflicted that whole night. When he heard George sigh in frustration he saw it as an opening to normalize their interactions and his own self, but every once and a while a flirtatious comment spewed out. The clearest example being when they were walking on the campus concourse and made plans to get lunch. It was a joke, but a reckless one at that.

"It's a date then." He remembers winking at George before turning around. There were plenty of expletives he had for himself on the walk back home.

It only continued from there. The flirtatious comments came back, but they felt different. Instead of feeling guilt for flirting with someone who wasn't interested it felt kind of felt normal. It was how he talked to his friends, to an extent. He never called Nick, cute like he did that afternoon at Wendy's with George. Twice, mind you.

Surrounding that was a brief moment when George legitimately made Clay feel something real. He made an off-handed comment about feeling lost, but the words suddenly became heavy seconds after he ushered them. "Then someone just needs to find you." 

It wasn't what he wanted to say. It felt too strong. 

Then in an attempt normalize their friendship, but also get to know George more, he invited him to a party. A party where he had that moment in the bathroom with a drunken George. The moment that blew down any sense of normalcy between them, for Clay at least. He felt sexually frustrated. 

The night turned when he left him out of his sight for just a minute or two. He didn't go to pee. He went to release that frustration. And it nearly ended in George being forced to do a line of cocaine or worse. So now he had to make it up to not just George, but to himself. 

"I'm sorry Clay. I really am," Nick muttered. Clay had ripped into him in the kitchen. He felt the pressure in his eyes and throat. The guilt of his selfishness compounded itself as he sought to focus his anger on his best friend. It wasn't fair. 

What he didn't tell George was that he already had apologized to Nick. He apologized for yelling at him after he saw George looking at him with fear and helplessness in his eyes. 

"Clay? Is there something you aren't telling me?" Nick said to him. He could see right through Clay. He always could.

"I like him, Nick. I fuckin like him and I don't know how to control it. He didn't want to be here but I insisted on him coming because I fucking knew he wouldn't fight back and I just wanted to be near him. He was my responsibility, man."

Nick wanted to hug his friend but Clay rejected him. "No. Don't. I don't need anyone right now. I just need to get out of here. Get him out of here." 

The rollercoaster of emotions didn't end there that night. George, filled with alcohol, was finding his ability to open up. What was exposed was a vulnerable guy who felt like he didn't deserve the world. Then he blamed himself for what happened at the party. He blamed himself for everything, which was nonsensical. Clay was distraught watching George beat himself up for things that were not in his control. He wanted to hug him. He wanted to give him the world. 

He so desperately wanted to hold him in his arms just to make him feel like he's not alone, but he resisted out of fear. Would he be doing it for George or for himself? He didn't know. So he told him to take a shower. 

Clay cried when he walked into the house. He slumped to the floor up against the kitchen door and cried. He hushed himself so not to wake up anyone but his older sister heard him. She had fallen asleep on the living room sofa. 

"Clay?"

He bounced up and wiped the tears away.

"What's wrong? What happened? Shouldn't you be at a party."

Clay looked behind him at the outhouse. "Yeah." His sister waited for him to continue. Up until now he had only mentioned George in passing. He had been questioned for his late nights and after being pestered by his sisters he gave in and told them about George. He didn't share much, or share how much he was into him but he knew they had an inkling.

"I had to bring someone back. He's really drunk and um, he almost got forced to do cocaine because I'm an idiot." He felt his eyes well up again. 

"Who, Nick?"

Clay shook his head. "No. my study partner." He chuckled nervously. "His name is George."

Her eyes lit up. "Oh! Oh shit. Clay you aren't--" 

Clay interrupted her. "No! I'm not taking advantage of a drunk guy. How shitty do you think I am?"

"I'm just making sure, little bro. Consent is important and if he's too drunk he can't give consent."

"I know that!"

She shrugged. "Sorry, you are a man, you know. Excuse me for being skeptical."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah I know." In unison they said, "Men suck." They share a tender laugh.

"So what are you going to do now? You know mom is going to ask you about him. Oh and don't forget about the other one," she said referencing their younger sister. "You should say your prayers for him."

Clay laughed. "He'll be fine. He's dealt with me these last couple days." He fixed his messy hair before continuing, "He lives by himself and he is really drunk."

His older sister makes an understand nod. "You're worried he'd get sick while he sleeps. That makes sense. So why did you make him drink so much? Hmm?" She asked in a joking tone.

"I didn't think he was that much of a light weight. I didn't know how drunk he was until he nearly toppled over." 

"Okay. Well go get what you need and get back to him. Maybe don't give him inclination that you were crying."

"Oh I won't, trust me."

The next day Clay was surprised to wake up to George not in the bed next to him. He was worried and disappointed. He saw George's clothes on the floor where he had left him so he wondered if he was in the house. 

He had been in the house.

"Hello, honey," his mother said as she typed away on her laptop. "I brought your friend, George I believe his name was, home. He seems sweet." It was off-handed but nothing his mom says is off-handed. There always something behind it. 

That's when his sisters came in. The oldest pretended that she didn't interrupt him crying last night.

"Hey Clay. Nice boyfriend you got there," his youngest sister said. 

"He's not boyfriend, what?!" 

The sisters look at each other, the oldest taking a dig at Clay by saying, "Yeah, you're right. He's too cute for you."

His mom struggles to fight a wheeze. "You two leave your brother alone." She kept laughing even after saying that.

"I hate you guys."

His dad walks in, "Hey Clay."

"Hey Dad." 

His dad take a strip of leftover bacon and eats it. "So how much did he cost?"

"Dear, no!" Clay's mom said in the middle of losing her breath. Clay was just speechless that his family was coming for him. They were all laughing. 

"I'm sorry, Clay. I couldn't resist taking the shot."

"Yeah yeah yeah. Whatever, dad."

Eventually he told them everything about the night before and why he brought him to his place. He knew they wouldn't mind but he wanted to be transparent nevertheless. 

That night when he got to the science library the workstation he had frequented was empty but the other one wasn't. So he decided to go up a floor and found two empty seats. He hoped George would come looking for him and he was right to make that bet with himself. 

Later on is when the dynamic between both of the boys changed even further. They had walked to George's apartment when Clay finally felt like he had to defend George from himself. George was again talking himself down calling himself a burden. It was so unfair and Clay needed to tell him that. He need George to understand that he was not a burden, that Clay didn't see him as one. Clay saw him as an equal, as a friend. 

The walls came tumbling down.

George, for all the times he forced a smile with a dose of anxiety, gave up on that. He opened himself up to Clay so Clay extended his arms. It wasn't until later did Clay realize that his instincts made him want to hug George, like it was initiation to be let in. To be trusted. 

And he did mean it when he said he wish he had met George sooner. He wish he had walked up to him, made him take his airpods out of his ear and talked to him. Maybe he wouldn't feel so alone, like a burden, or someone who doesn't deserve the very ground he walks on. 

Clay would lay down the red carpet for George if he asked. He'd drop everything for a boy he just met a few days ago and it drove him mad. 

But it felt right, because they were friends. 

When his mom came back giving them the update on how George has nothing further to worry about, Clay couldn't help but feel a drudging feeling in his chest. It was the worst feeling he could have. He's supposed to be happy. George won't have to worry about his landlord. He can focus on his studies.

He can focus on Clay.

Except he can't. 

_They were friends._

And that was it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hoped you guys like this. I originally didn't even plan on doing a Clay centric chapter but when it entered my head in the middle of writing the scene in front of George's apartment, I couldn't stop. It felt like I had put the story together in a more complete fashion. I hope I surprised you a little with how Clay saw things. 
> 
> Also, I want to say that I am making a new dnf fic that is similar to this. I enjoyed the college setting and I wanted to do something longer and deeper. This was just a small story that I wrote over a weekend lol. I have no clue when I'll start uploading it. I'm finishing this story and the other one first. 
> 
> PSA: Listen to Roadtrip.


	8. Miscalculation

Today was the final day of exams for the spring semester. George was pretty nervous going into the last final, but he felt like he was going to do well. Clay had helped him with some of the last couple chapters, which were the ones he felt less comfortable with. 

When George sat down to take his test he took a deep breath and did everything he usually does. A pair of pencils sat on the table, one as a back up. One of the things about taking finals is that it really brings you closer to going home. Each exam finished is like one stack of weights removed from your shoulders. He was going home tomorrow. 

But there was something nagging at him. 

He didn't want to go home. A certain tall, blonde boy was aching his heart. Yesterday, Clay told him that his parents were okay with him staying next semester but George wasn't ready to accept. He made an excuse that he just wanted to run it through with his parents, but he wasn't sure if Clay believed him. 

When he completed the exam and handed it in everything kind of hit him. His freshman year was wrapped up. Home was a little more than 24 hours away. The only thing left was to tell Clay so much before saying goodbye. 

Clay was outside the testing area, having finished his exam a while ago. George couldn't do it. He told himself he'd tell him tonight, but then Clay through a curveball. 

A party. Another one.

He pledged that this wasn't with Nick's frat so he won't have to watch him so intently. He joked, but it didn't land. He seemed on edge.

"Sure," the words came out. He felt more comfortable this time, maybe because he just wanted to have a good time before going back home. 

Or maybe he just wanted another out from being honest with Clay. They had shared phone numbers the previous night as they packed away George's belongings, so he wouldn't be able to run away for too long. But maybe long enough that he won't have to face Clay. He won't have to see what Clay would say. 

He didn't know why he was so nervous. He was so sure Clay would accept him being gay. There was a time this past week where he thought Clay was into him, but he shook that notion. Cause how can someone _that_ hot be into him? He's just playful and flirty. Doesn't mean anything. 

"You nervous?" Clay said as hey stood outside the small cottage house. There was some music coming from the backyard where George could see a bunch of people. Clay was standing in front of him in a lime green button up. His face was clean shaven and illuminating, his stupid smile doing that thing it does to George's insides. 

"Nah. Let's fucking party," George says. Clay laughs out loud.

"Alright let's go."

They quickly pound away a couple shots when they meet up with Nick and Luke. The four of them get together for a game of beer pong, they share drinks, and laughs. All of it. It was going just as good as the last party.

But like the previous party things went downhill fast.

George hadn't gotten too drunk, being more cognizant of his inability to consume too much alcohol. But when he heard the voice of a female, a familiar voice, behind him he wish he had a few more shots in him. 

Clara.

"Hello, George."

"What do you want, Clara?" George takes a swig of his nearly empty drink. He briefly looks around for Clay who had gone with Nick to get some drinks for them.

"I just want you to know that I passed my exam." 

George shrugged. "I don't care. I really don't."

"You're a dick, you know that?"

George just nods and takes another sip of his drink, finishing it. He goes to walk away but Clara grabs his arm. "Do not touch me. Not ever again."

She laughed. "Oh, you're going to pretend that you didn't like it? Spare me, George. I'm the hottest person that's ever paid you any attention."

George scoffed. "See now that's just not even close to true. I was just getting revenge for how you treated me last year. I wanted to see just how far you would go. It's quite sad, really." He was getting under her skin and twisting the knife.

"You piece of shit." 

Clay and Nick came back from where they came from. "What's going on here?" the taller boy asked. He came in with a smile but as he took another look at both George's and Clara's face he realized something was really amiss. 

"Nothing, Clay. Clara was just going to be with her boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?" Clay whispered to Nick. Nobody else heard him. 

"Yeah, okay. Asshole." Clara said flicking her hair behind her shoulder. She walked outside and left George alone for the rest of the night. 

George took a deep breath, tossed his cup in the garbage and put on a big smile. He wanted to move on and get back to enjoying the party. "Which one of you has my new drink, huh?" Nick came forward and held out a clear plastic cup with that special drink George remembers from the frat party. 

"My specialty!" Nick answer joyously. 

Clay was slightly alarmed by this new tone from George, but he thought he was just letting loose. So why be alarmed?

As the night continued, George slowed his consumption of alcohol. He noticed Clay had been watching him and he didn't want a repeat of the last party when he had gotten so drunk Clay had to leave the party. 

Sitting down up against the wall, George is approached by a young woman. She looked familiar, maybe from one of their classes, but had no clue what her name was. She introduced herself as Maggie. 

"Is that seat taken?" she asked pointing to the spot next to him. She had an approachable smile so he nodded.

"So why is a handsome man like you sitting by himself? I swear I saw you with a group of guys before."

George, looking down at his feet, softly chuckled. "Eh I'm just thinking to myself."

She nodded in understanding. "Ah, the alcohol got you thinking about life, huh? Yeah I know that feeling." They share a glance, "May I ask what you are thinking about?"

George traced his finger up along the side of his water bottle. Beyond the water bottle, next to his right foot were a line of ants digging down into a small hole in the cracks of the cement path. He saw small bits of chip crumbs being held by them. He let out a sigh. "I go back to the UK tomorrow, but I feel like when I go a part of me will be left here. An unfinished part."

"Are you coming back next semester?"

He nods. "I should be."

A heart-warming smile etched across her face as if she knew how he was feeling. It was strange but George felt okay with it. "Then whatever you leave here should still be here, no? You can just pick up what is unfinished and finish it."

A light scoff exited his mouth. "I don't think it's that simple."

_It's not._

"Why's that?" Her voice was tender but invasive. It begged for George to open up and George continued to oblige.

"Because I'm not sure it'll still be here when I get back." 

_He'll be long gone._

A silence befell the two strangers. Maggie felt the mood swing too far to a serious note so she turned the conversation to something lighter. "You know we were in the same accounting class?" 

George giggled, "No I didn't. I don't know anyone from that class. I walked in the first day, saw 300 students and didn't care to remember a damn face."

They both laughed.

"I remember yours."

Something changed in the atmosphere between them. The heaviness from George was contrasting with the lightness from Maggie. "You are too kind. I'm very forgetful."

Her hand brushed up against his.

_Clay._

"I don't think your face is forgetful." George froze as she uttered those words, her fingers creeping up. "You know when you said you weren't sure if it will be here when you get back? Did you mean someone?"

Her hand skimmed his chin and caressed his cheek. "Yes," he said looking into her eyes. _Clay_. He was lost. He was like a deer in headlights and if he didn't get out of the way he was about to be run over.

She moved in to kiss him.

_Clay!_

He snapped out of his trance and stopped her from kissing him. His breathing has shortened and quickened at the same time. He struggled to his feet. "I'm sorry. I'm gay, Maggie."

She takes a step back and looks hurt. Confused. 

_What the fuck was that?_

George screamed at himself. 

"Wait, you're gay?" She looked around like she herself was lost but she wasn't. She was dumbfounded. Then she was angry. "Are you fucking serious? Was this a joke?"

George scanned his brain for answers. "W-what? What do you mean?"

She muttered something under her breath. "Clay. That fucker set me up."

_Clay?_

"Wait. What are you talking about Maggie? Clearly there is a misunderstanding."

George was beginning to shake as the weight of Maggie's words started to envelope him. A concoction of fear and anger threw his mind and body into a whirlwind of confusion. This had to be a mistake, he thought.

"That fucker told me to talk to you. I told him I thought you were cute. He said that you were leaving tomorrow and that you were looking for a good time."

The words that he was hearing didn't even make sense. Did he drink more than he thought? Did he do drugs? Where is he?

 _A good time? What is she saying?_ He looked at the anger in her face. She felt used and George was too stupid to see what was happening before it was almost too late. But what was almost too late for him was way too late for her.

"Well do you have anything to say for yourself?!" She yelled at him. A group of people had heard the commotion and were now watching. That's when Clay, Nick and Luke showed up. When Maggie saw him she walked up to him and slapped him across the face. "You set me up with a gay guy? You tried to make a fool out of me?! You dick."

"A what guy?" Nick asked.

Luke elbowed him in the side and whispered, "Dude, not now."

Maggie stormed off leaving a trail of chaos in her wake. The trail lit as Clay met George's shaky eyes. A tear strolling down his cheek. He made a grave miscalculation and now he had to take the burns. 

Luke and Nick quickly saw what was unfolding and shooed everyone away before turning back to Clay and George who were just a foot apart.

"Why did you befriend me, Clay? What was the point of being so nice to me? Did you get anything good out of it?" They were questions he's wanted to ask Clay before.

George words cut like glass. Like the jagged ends of a cracked coke glass. The only times Clay had ever seen such a thing were in the movies. Someone would crack the bottle to get ready to stab someone. But here, in this moment, that was not what happened. Clay cracked the bottle and had handed it to George to hurt him. 

And it hurt.

"George, I didn't know."

_Shit answer._

A second tear fell.

_A really shit answer._

And a third.

"You didn't know because you don't fucking know me. Not really anyways."

Clay interrupted him and grabbed his hand. His heart was aching terribly with guilt eating away at him. He was right, initially. He fucked up. "That's not true, George. I've gotten to know how sweet and cari-"

George ripped his hand from Clay as more tears fell. "Shut up! Don't give me that. You didn't know! You thought it was acceptable in any way to fucking set me up with some strange chick that was in my accounting class. Actually, now that I think about it, she probably wasn't. Did you tell her that? Was that a fucking story you told her to tell? Like how you told her about me leaving tomorrow?"

It was. Clay's silence only confirmed it. The tear that fell from his left eye cemented it.

"You suck, Clay. I've been stressing out this whole day over leaving tomorrow. Do you know why?" He got up close to Clay's face and stared into his pained light green eyes. "Because of you," he growled. "Because I fell for the one person who gave me the time of day and I didn't want to leave him." 

"Oh shit," Nick muttered to Luke. "This is too spicy."

"Shut up, Nick."

Clay and George looked into the wounded and distressed eyes of each other. George was shaking in anger and sadness as he unloaded. Regret seeped into those tears. Regret for not telling him this earlier today, or yesterday. 

This was his fault. 

"I'm sorry, Georgie."

"Don't call me that!" George shot back. "You don't get to fucking call me that." Clay tried to touch his hand but George shifted. He wiped away his tears and walked right by Clay. "Asshole."

It was the sharpest shard that George threw at Clay and he didn't even mean it for him. George was trying to mutter it to himself, about himself. Unfortunately, his emotions got the best of him and it sounded like he was calling Clay that. Saying that hurt him, because he wouldn't call Clay that. Even now it wouldn't be fair George to mutter that word while walking away from him. 

It became self-inflicted wound with collateral damage. And now he was running away from it.

He blasted through Nick and Luke leaving a weeping Clay behind. He just wanted to get out of there and jumped in the first taxi he could see.

Meanwhile, Clay just stood where he was left, burning from the fire he set. He was empty, still crying, but empty. His brain couldn't muster a single thought. When Nick came up to him he didn't say anything. He just let his best friend guide his head into his shoulder.

After a couple minutes Clay started to compose himself. But then he thought about George and the pain in his eyes and it all fell apart again. 

"I fucked up, Nick. I fucked up. I hurt him. How could I do that?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a tough chapter to write for a lot of reasons lol. We are one more chapter away from finishing this story. For those who read my first DNF fic, which just wrapped up, thanks for reading this too. 
> 
> The final chapter for this story is expected to be up on Sunday. I am very excited for you all to read it. 
> 
> Lastly, I am working on a new DNF fic. Spent the weekend on it. I'm not 100% sure I'm going to upload it but if I do it will be up on Sunday as well. It is a college setting too, with angst, deeper character development, and potentially more mature themes. I currently have it pegged as a 25 chapter story based on my outline. I will link to it in the end note of the next chapter of this fic if I go through with it.


	9. Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People are puzzles that think they are shells.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. I can't believe I wrote this story in the course of like 4 days last month, but I'm immensely proud of it. It gave me the inspiration to write another fic.
> 
> If the CC's want me to take this down I will do so.

Do you ever think when things have seemingly fallen apart in front of you that there is no way to put it back together? Like maybe a seashell that you remember finding when you were a child and then you go to show your family and you are happy with it. You bring it home, maybe you paint it maybe you don't. But what you end up doing is placing it on a shelf or maybe a counter. 

Then the shell breaks. You don't ever expect it to break when you place it down even though it could. Anything can break. When you see the shell shattered on the floor you frantically hope that you can put it back together, but then you realize that it's not like a puzzle. Pieces of a shell may be able to be put back together with glue, but it's painstaking and it gives off a fraudulent feel and look once you are done. You can see the glue in between where the shell broke. They are scars that remind you just how brittle the object is. 

But a puzzle is not like that. You can drop a puzzle, someone could throw your puzzle to the ground causing all of the pieces to come apart. You don't need glue to put it together. It'll take time but you can find the pieces and then put it back together yourself. Or with the help of others.

People are puzzles that think they are shells.

Right now Clay feels like a shell. A shell that was delicately placed on a shelf and knocked off, no thrown off the shelf. His pieces were scattered all over the floor and he saw every single one of them. He saw his friend, Nick try to put them together but Clay was of no help. 

"Clay? Clay?! Dammit Clay!" Nick says as he shakes his shoulders. Clay's eyes move and meets his friend's. "Come on, man." Nick and Luke bring him to the front of the house and to the park across the street. "Alright, I need you to snap the fuck out this funk."

"Oh, you said funk," Luke mocks. "Okay."

"Shut up Luke. Now ain't the time for you to take jabs at me." 

Clay demurred. "What am I supposed to do, Nick? I fucked up."

"So what? Since when has that ever stopped you?"

In a low, defeated voice Clay answer, "Nick, I never wanted to hurt him. I don't even know what I was thinking. I saw him with this girl one day, and, I-" Clay closed his fist and hit his leg. "I assumed he was into girls. I thought that was his girlfriend and then I heard her say she was going to make him happy or whatever. Fuck. Then tonight. You saw them."

"Wait that chick we saw him with earlier tonight?"

Clay nodded.

"I knew they weren't dating because he would've told me-" He punched his leg again. Nick looked back at Luke and smiled. He was happy to see Clay getting angry rather than being so defeatist. He wanted Clay to fight. "He would've told me. I should've believed my initial instincts. The way he had been looking at me. He's been telling me all of this time and I just shrugged it off because I misinterpreted one moment and let it snowball."

Nick was grinning.

"Why the fuck are you so happy, Nick? Is this funny to you?"

Nick shook his head. "No, bitch. I'm happy because you are finally putting the pieces together you idiot. Now what are you going to do about?"

Clay felt defeat flood his head and body again. "I don't know."

Nick shook him. "You are just going to fucking give up? Is that what you are doing, Clay?"

"What the fuck do you want me to do, Nick!? He wants nothing to do with me. You heard him."

"I heard him call you an asshole. Which you are if you stay here and sulk. You're also a pussy." Luke stepped in and grabbed his shoulder to get him to lay off. Nick shrugged him off. "No, fuck that Luke. Clay, you did not simp over that boy and his stupid smile just to give up on him. He's leaving here tomorrow, but don't let him leave _you_ when he gets on that plane."

Clay tried to muster the energy to do what Nick wanted him to, but the image of George crying and pained just traumatized him. He looked into his hazel brown eyes like he's done before and saw so much agony and anger. Because of something he had done. How can he undo that? 

"I'm sorry, Nick."

Nick sighed in exasperation. "You still like him, right?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Have you told him?"

"No."

Nick put his hand on Clay's shoulder, "Then tell him. Yes, you hurt him but I'm telling you that boy is still into you. You owe it to yourself and to him to fight for him. He told you how he felt, now tell him you feel."

Clay tried to lazily shake away from Nick but the other boy held firm. "Come on, Clay."

His phone went off.

It was a notification from instagram. It said that George posted a photo. Clay felt a jolt of despair and joy see his name. Nick looked down and saw the notification and said, "What did he post?"

Clay swiped the notification and was then sent to the photo. There were flowers, a small water fountain, and these iron black trellis up on the far side of the photo. 

"Oh."

~~~~~~

After George left the house he couldn't stop crying. Even when he got into the taxi, sitting in the back, the tears kept flowing. He told the driver to drive him to the University campus and that's all he said. The driver looked back concerned but he didn't say anything. 

When they got to the campus center, George had finally quelled the tears. He looked up and saw the big sign that had been in place to advertise that Chick-fil-a was coming to the University Food Court next semester. 

_Next semester._

He unlocked his phone and went to his pictures. He didn't have many, especially recently but he found the picture he was looking for. It was of Clay and him in Clay's outhouse. George let himself smile. He looked at himself in the photo and saw how happy he was. It was a real smile. 

_That was a real friendship._

He put his phone down keeping it in his hand and sighed.

_You are an idiot, George._

He walked into the campus center, specifically where the food court was and walked to his spot. There were a few students loitering around even though finals were done. Campus won't shut down until next week to give students time to return books, pick up final projects if they can, and get out in an timely fashion. 

He stood just feet away from the large glass windows and looked at the flowers. Then he looked to his right and saw the door. He approaches it and turns the handle, which is supposed to be locked. 

It wasn't.

The handle turned and the door opened. George stepped out and into the small garden which was lit by small lights around the perimeter. Moths flew around them and spiders formed small webs nearby too. 

He took out his phone and snapped a photo. He wasn't sure what he was going for but he wanted to take it. Then he posted it on Instagram.

There was an immense feeling of dread and sadness in George and he felt that the beautiful flowers and greenery could just take it all away. Kind of like how trees eat up carbon dioxide and fill the air with oxygen. He wanted this negativity to be eaten up and replaced with positivity.

Memories from the last week replay in his head.

"So my shelves...," he remember Clay saying. He was so nervous when he started talking, "...have photos of those that I care about." George knew he was saying something momentous, but he didn't quite believe it so he let the other boy continue. "I was hoping to get a photo with or of you." George remembers the immense happiness he felt in that moment. And disbelief. Disbelief that someone like Clay existed. Disbelief that he met that someone.

"I didn't go out of my way. You've just been in my way. And I'm glad you were."

He replays those words over and over again. He originally felt happy remembering those words, but then they became warped with the events from tonight. Everything contorts itself. He feels an overwhelming sense of sadness again and begins to cry again. Then he hears a light tap on the glass window. 

When he turned around he saw Clay. His hand was flat up against the window. Next to him was Luke and Nick. George doesn't move. Clay takes a chance, opens the door and steps outside. Before the door closes, Nick quickly slides a folded up plate in the crack just to keep it open so he could hear what is being said.

"You are so annoying," Luke mutters.

Clay slowly approaches George. He's not shaking anymore but he is still looking upset.

"What do you want?"

"I saw your photo." Clay said hoping that would mean something.

"Obviously, Clay. What do you want?"

"I want to apologize."

George shook his head and wiped away his tears which stopped falling from his eyes. "You already did." 

Clay took a step closer, but felt less sure of himself. "I know."

"What do you want, Clay?"

"Dammit, George. I want your forgiveness."

George snapped back, "And why should I forgive you? Tell me, please."

Clay didn't know how to answer that. When he didn't respond George just rolled his eyes and looked away in disappointment. "Every friend deserves a second chance." George had muttered those exact words to him earlier in the week when George begged Clay to forgive Nick. 

"That's not fair," George struggled to say as he stifled a cry.

"George I really am sorry. I completely misunderstood everything. I misunderstood you and I'll never forgive myself. I can live with that, but I can't live with you not forgiving me."

George looked down and felt tears stream down his face. 

"What do you want?" George asked one last time through gritted teeth.

Clay crept closer and placed a hand on the shorter boy's shoulder. It was delicate, testing the waters to see how the other boy will react. He didn't reject him. "You, George. I want you." 

"Then what are you waiting for?"

George could feel Clay's shaky breathing on his neck. His hand tightened on his shoulder and tug on him. While turning George around his hand traveled up towards his cheek. Clay used his thumb to push the tears off to the side below his sideburn. He wanted to sit in this moment for just a few seconds, feeling George's soft skin in his hand and looking into his eyes. He'd been waiting for this moment for a week, even if he wishes it was under better circumstances.

He leans in, slowly bringing George closer to him and closes his eyes. He trusts his body to do the rest.

His lips finally meet George's. They are soft and filled with desire. He can taste the salt from his tears but he doesn't care. He just kisses him like it was the last time he'll ever get to do it. 

George pulls away.

"I hate you." They share a glance, Clay wondering if he was serious. George cracks a smile causing the both of them to laugh. He reaches back in for another kiss.

Clay hears a sniffle from behind him so he turns around and sees Nick shedding a tear. "I'm fine. Just allergies." Clay and George laugh.

"You fucking sap," Luke remarks.

While holding George's hands he lets out a sigh. "This is not how I wanted to tell you all of this."

"This'll be a funny story to tell one day, I'm sure."

Clay shook his head vehemently. "Nothing about this was funny. Certainly not me thinking you were straight after you spent the last week checking me out."

"That's actually kind of funny," Luke retorted.

The four boys laughed in unison. 

George grabbed Clay's hand and pulled him. They left the garden area and walked through the food court. "Where are we going?"

"My apartment," George replied. Clay could see a smile form across his face. 

"Oh? Why?"

The shorter boy just turned around with a smirk. "Because I want you too."

Clay's eyes widened. 

They left Nick and Luke at the campus which led to the former leaving Clay a torrent of texts, but he ignored them. His eyes were glued on this British boy he just met and fell for in a week. When they got to the apartment Clay stopped them. They shared a glance. Clay knew that this was George getting back at his neighbor. They had cleared everything out of the house except for the sheets because he had no need for it. There was nothing left to do in that place. 

George continued up the stairs and dared Clay to follow as if he was going to pass on this opportunity. He'd fantasized about this quite a bit.

They closed the door to the apartment and went to George's room. Clay walked in, George followed him. When George closed the door, Clay grabbed him and pushed him up against the door and kissed him. There was more ferocity in his kissing then their first time. George's hands slipped up Clay's shirt and felt his abdomen and then pulled his shirt off.

He pushed the taller boy away so he could take a look at what was in front of him.

"Do you know I've been fantasizing this since I first saw you shirtless?"

"Oh? You want to know what I've been fantasizing about?"

Their eyes were locked onto each other. Clay pulled George by his shirt and pulled it off of him. He walked him over to the bed and pushed him onto it. He looked down and felt an electric surge flow through his body. 

"What, Clay?"

"That night when we were in the bathroom and you fell into me. Ever since then I've wanted your body against mine. Again." He leaned down onto George and felt his warm skin connect with his. There was no stopping where this was going. Clay's hand slid down his pants and grabbed him as he slipped his tongue into George's mouth. 

The hunger was palpable. Clay unzipped George's pants, freeing him from the clutches of the denim and began to work down to George's neck with his mouth. He couldn't help leaving a love bite or two on his way down to his abdomen. 

But then he stopped. And laughed.

"You know um, I'm supposed to ask for your consent."

George looked at him, going soft. "You did not just fucking ruin this moment with that?"

Clay laughed nervously. "I'm just trying to be a good guy, Georgie. We both had a little to drink."

George reached into his wallet which had fallen out onto the bed and pulled out the single condom that he had in it. He held it up to Clay, "You have consent to do as you please."

Clay took the condom from his hand, and ripped it open. Before slipping it on he went back down for another unrestrained kiss. He left one more love bit above his collarbone and then went to his ear. "As you wish, Georgie," he whispered. George pulled his head back up just to give him one more kiss.

For the next half hour the two boys shared a moment both of them had fantasized throughout the course of their friendship. George was filled with ecstasy as Clay's lust took him over. He couldn't believe someone like Clay would ever want to be with him, but he was certainly not going to complain. He certainly made sure to let his landlord know how happy he was.

Their bodies still rode a high even when they got back to Clay's outhouse. They slept naked in his bed, George's head resting on Clay's chest. He was drifting asleep, paying attention to his steady heart beat as he drew circles on his body with his finger. Clay had his hand full of George's hair as he lightly messaged his scalp. 

"George?"

"Yes, Clay?"

"Do you remember when you said you felt lost?"

George thought about it. Clay had called him cute but said that 75% of the time he looked lost. He had responded with a hint of honesty by saying "What if I am?"

Yeah he remembers that. He had nobody. Before Clay it was just himself, alone. It was draining.

"Yes."

"Do you still feel lost?"

George huffed. "No. I think you found me."

Clay brought George's face up by cupping his finger under his chin and left one last kiss on his lips. Somehow that was the best kiss of the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked that ending. I couldn't resist it. I like my happy endings with some sap intertwined with it. 
> 
> If you don't know, I decided to dive back into the DNF in college AU with Love's Struggle. It's going to be a long fic, and if you liked this one you are going to like that one. If you are into the angst and slow burn romance then go give it a read. It'll be a long fic for me. I think I have an outline for 27 chapters. 
> 
> Here's the fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29435676/chapters/72308274

**Author's Note:**

> Any comment, questions, and concerns are totally welcomed. 
> 
> If you don't know I have two other fanfics(both with DNF romance); The Shadows of History and The Eternal Summer's Clouds.


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